Heartstone
by Incatnito
Summary: The next in my series. Harm and Mac tie the knot and attend a royal coronation on their honeymoon. An old enemy moves in to exact a revenge that's been years in the making.
1. Chapter 1

Heartstone

by Incatnito

All the legalese that states that JAG and its characters aren't mine. Just taking them out to play - promise to put them back.

10-10-10 seems an auspicious time to launch this story. I've been working on it off and on since I finished Catspaw. Whenever I got stuck, I'd wander off to another in-progress story for another fandom. It probably wasn't the most productive way to deal with it but it did keep me writing and the frustration at bay. The first half (third?) of this story is my attempt at fluff, dealing mostly with the nuptials of Harm and Mac and the acquiring of domestic bliss. After all our fearless couple has been through, I didn't want to leave it at 'and then they got married'. The devil's in the details and I assumed (hopefully, correctly) that most of you don't want to be shortchanged. If you find it boring, I apologize. KeruM is ever so much better at this stuff. I've also found I can't keep from adding a little suspense here and there. So, I suppose, these first chapters could be considered 'occasionally ominous' fluff.

Enough rambling - Heartstone picks up about 4 months or so after Catspaw. I'll probably be updating every four or five days. As always, I hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

Thursday

JAG HQ

Falls Church, VA

1130 Local

With a deep feeling of satisfaction, Mac walked into her office, dropping her briefcase on the floor by the desk. She'd annihilated Vukovic in court today. She was three for three with him now and with a little luck, that streak would continue. The man annoyed the hell out of her. She didn't normally let her personal feelings affect her professional opinion of junior officers but this guy kept pushing all her buttons. He was a pretty decent lawyer but not nearly as good as he thought he was - not yet. Mac was fairly certain she could have tolerated his arrogance - God knew he had nothing on fighter pilots in that regard - but he combined it with a condescending attitude towards women that made her want to kick his six to the moon and back. The fact that he was more than willing to flaunt ethical boundaries didn't sit well with her either. She tried to set him straight a number of times but apparently it had gone in one ear and out the other. Half the time it seemed like he was trying to out-Harm Harm. Mac amended that thought. He was trying to out-Harm the office legend of Harm, while ignoring the important ingredients of compassion and integrity. Vukovic was a train wreck just waiting to happen and Mac had no intention of sitting on the tracks.

Shaking her head, Mac dropped into her chair and turned to her computer, logging on and checking messages. As she expected, there were a ton of emails. Only a third of them had anything to do with JAG business. The rest were personal messages dealing with her upcoming marriage. The wedding was just about eight weeks away - or fifty-eight days, four hours, twenty-seven minutes and fifteen seconds - if she happened to be counting. She actually wasn't. She couldn't help it if her time sense was monitoring the situation closely.

Resolutely, Mac began sorting through the emails, separating official from personal. She and Harm were trying to keep things simple. When they'd finally gotten back on track and settled on a new date, neither was figuring on a large wedding. That assumption was soon turned on its ear. For one thing, there turned out to be a lot more people than either of them anticipated who wanted to come to the wedding. It might have become completely overwhelming had not their family and friends stepped up to help. One of the first things Harm and Mac had done was approach Chaplain Turner and he'd graciously agreed to officiate the ceremony. When he learned they were searching for a church (there wasn't a snowball's chance of getting the Navy Chapel on such short notice), he'd made use of his contacts and set up a meeting with a local pastor. The Chaplain was a discerning man so it wasn't surprising that the JAG officers and Rev. Forrest got along famously. They arranged for the church that very day. In the meantime, Sturgis informed them that Varese had volunteered to sing. Then Carol Dzurick had stepped in (with Gheorghe's blessing) and offered the Bacovian embassy ballroom and kitchen staff for the reception. After that, Frank decided a DJ wasn't appropriate and hired a small orchestra for the evening. When Harm protested the expense, Frank waved it off, airily declaring it an early wedding present. With such major items under control in such a short amount of time, the men were feeling rather smug. Women just liked complicating things, weddings weren't hard at all.

The women, however, were much more aware that there was little time for complacency. Trish, Harriet and Emma Fine had combined forces to discreetly step in as the Colonel's surrogate family. After all these years, Mac had no idea where her own mother was and no desire to hunt the woman down. Knowing how much had yet to be done and how full her schedule was at work, she was grateful for any and all help. Although it was her wedding, Mac had been hard-pressed at times to get a word in edgewise during the frequent strategy meetings. She wasn't really worried. These three knew the couple well enough to understand her and Harm's tastes and priorities. There would not be the same debacle that had been looming for Chegwidden before his wedding had gone off the tracks. Considering the time-crunch they were in (something which seemed to be strictly genetic; none of the men involved, from Harm on down, could understand the urgency still displayed by the women), Mac merely made sure they kept to the broad strokes of her wishes and let them handle the details however they thought best. For her, the most important detail was marrying Harm. She didn't truly care if the invitations were printed on a linen finish card or written on the back of a cocktail napkin. All things considered, it was much like the delegating she already did as a senior officer.

The hardest thing was keeping everyone within budget. Knowing it was traditionally the bride's family that handled the expense, Mac was intent on footing as much of the bill as possible. It had been the source of several arguments with Harm. At first, he'd tried to take over all the expenses, pointing towards his nearly untouched trust fund as ample reason. Mac had surprised the hell out of him when she presented her own considerable bank account as a counter-argument. Growing up in a household where the weekly pay was just as likely to go towards liquor as food and necessities had instilled a deep-seated fear of ever returning to that sort of destitution. During her entire military career, Mac had rarely been frivolous with her money. Notwithstanding the occasional forays into fashion (which Mac thought of as more of a business necessity considering the formal events she'd had to attend), the only luxuries she'd allowed herself were her paleontology hobby, shoes and, most recently, the 'Vette. The rest had been carefully invested.

Not one to surrender easily, Harm had gone for a compromise. Considering that they were older and well-established in their professions, he suggested that they split the cost. Even though it felt like she was reneging on her responsibilities, Mac conceded his point. She added a few caveats to the agreement. She would be responsible for her wedding dress and anything to do with the bridesmaids, as well as the decorating of the church. When it looked like Harm was going to object, she waved her engagement ring at him, pointing at the expense he'd already accrued. Mac then suggested he fight it out with Gheorghe about the cost of the open bar at their reception if he was still willing to argue about something. They would share expenses on everything else.

"Hey counselor, ready for lunch?"

Mac looked up and smiled warmly at Harm before leaning back in her chair, "Depends, know any tall, handsome, jet-jockey-turned-lawyer types who might want to come along?"

Grinning, Harm stepped further into her office, "Nah, are you kidding? They're almost as hard to find as gorgeous Marine attorneys with an uncanny sense of time."

Mac affected a sigh as she grabbed her cover and purse, "Oh well, then I guess we're stuck with each other."

"The price we pay for serving our country," Harm intoned solemnly. He waited for her to walk past and then moved alongside. Neither spoke again until they were in the elevator. Once the doors shut, Harm glanced at his beautiful fiancee and smiled, "I hear you wiped the floor with Vukovic this morning. Congratulations." What he really wanted to do was kiss her silly but that would have to wait until tonight.

Mac gave a slight shrug, pleased with both the memory and Harm's compliment, "He's been asking for it all week. I was just happy I could deliver."

Harm's smile dimmed somewhat. He was aware of Vukovic's maneuverings. The man had attempted to circumvent Mac's defense by bringing up her recent concussion. Her client was innocent but there was enough circumstantial evidence to cast some doubt. Apparently Vukovic didn't really care about the seaman's innocence as much as he cared about winning his case. Given his record with Mac, he'd tried to have her removed by claiming she was mentally impaired, which was unfair to her client. Mac couldn't deny the ongoing consequences of her injury but she did hotly contest Vukovic's assessment of her abilities. It didn't help Vukovic's contentions when Mac's client came out firmly in support of her as his attorney. In the end, Judge Rossman upheld Mac and turned Vukovic's words back on him, telling him he could try for an appeal if he lost his case. The judge then commented somewhat dryly, that it wouldn't say much about Vukovic's lawyering abilities if he was appealing because he'd lost to someone who was 'mentally impaired'.

In any event, it was still a slimy thing to do. Vukovic might have been throwing chaff but he'd managed to hit on a partial truth. Until he'd brought it up, it hadn't been general knowledge that Mac was still dealing with some effects of the concussion. Her doctor at Bethesda had warned her that it might take up to a year for a full recovery. Harm knew, of course, and he also knew that Mac had kept Cresswell informed as well. Glancing away, Harm couldn't help muttering, "Stupid son of a bitch."

"I'll say." Harm looked back to see Mac watching him, "Let it go, Harm. He got his in spades today. I heard Cresswell reamed him as well. You don't need to add your two cents' worth." She nudged him with her shoulder and grinned, "Besides, that's not what I want to be thinking about right now."

Harm arched an eyebrow before smiling smugly, "Really? And is there a tall, handsome jet-jocky-turned-lawyer involved in the 'what'?

Mac gazed towards the elevator doors, her expression innocent, "I don't think so, Navy. That delicious, juicy, double cheeseburger waiting out there is all mine."

Whatever comment Harm might have made about 'dead animal' was swallowed as the elevator doors opened. They both nodded and Mac murmured a quiet 'as you were', to the Ensign and Lt.j.g. who had snapped to attention at the appearance of two senior officers. Walking out to the parking lot, Mac didn't relax again until she was sitting in Harm's SUV. She leaned back with a sigh and Harm looked over at her, "You okay?"

"Tired," she tilted her head towards him with a slight smile. "Sometimes I have to concentrate so I can concentrate - if that makes any sense. It's wearing."

Harm nodded, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze. Backing out of his parking space, he drove out of the lot and headed towards her favorite burger place. When she realized where they were going, Mac looked at Harm in surprise, "Beltway Burgers without an argument or snide comment? Who are you and what have you done with Harmon Rabb, Jr.?"

Harm rolled his eyes and gave her a haughty look, "It's all part of the plan."

"Plan?" Mac folded her arms and tried to look serious, "You have a plan?"

"Contrary to certain people's misconceptions," Harm gave Mac another look that made it that much harder for her to hide a smile, "I always have a plan."

"Uh-huh." Mac was patently skeptical, "And does your plan include bailing you out of some life or death situation with my plan? Because unless there's a cheeseburger at the end of that tunnel, it ain't happening."

Harm pulled into a space in the parking lot of Beltway Burgers. Turning off the engine, he attempted to look affronted, "So you're saying I'm not worth a lousy cheeseburger?"

"Don't be silly, of course you're worth a lousy cheeseburger," Mac reached over and patted his arm while smiling sweetly. "It's the really good cheeseburgers that I'd have to think twice about."

Finally chuckling, Harm shook his head, "Alright, Marine, let's get you fed before I drop below french fries in the pecking order." He got out and went around to open the door for her, keeping a hand ready just in case. She hadn't had any balance problems lately but he didn't like to take chances.

Mac smiled as she climbed out. Normally, she didn't like to hovered over but lately she was finding it kind of sweet. When they'd first returned from California, she'd nearly taken a header down the front steps of her apartment building. She'd turned too quickly when old Mrs. Preston had called her name and the resulting vertigo had nearly knocked her off her feet. Fortunately, Harm had been there to catch her. Unfortunately, it had scared himself enough that, even though it was three months later, he was still worrying about it.

Harm returned her smile and they walked into the restaurant. Fifteen minutes later, she was happily munching away on her double cheeseburger while he worked on a salad. Harm looked over at her as he speared another piece of lettuce, "So what's the word from the Mom Mafia?"

Holding up a hand, Mac swallowed and then dabbed her lips with a napkin. Catching the growing interest on Harm's face as he watched, she shook her head and grinned saucily, "Patience is a virtue, Commander. You'll just have to wait until tonight."

"Patience is over-rated," Harm mock-growled in return, keeping his voice down as he leaned forward. He straightened up with a sigh when Mac raised an eyebrow and deliberately gazed around the restaurant at the various families, "Fine." Propping his chin in a hand, he returned to his earlier question, "What's the latest from your Gang of Three?

Mac rolled her eyes a bit. Ever since Harm had learned that Harriet, Emma and his mom were collaborating, he'd been trying out various names for them. 'Gang of Three' so far was better than 'The Axis of Estrogen'. She'd been drinking her coffee the other morning when he came out with that one and damn near choked. "The flowers are ordered, Emma is conferring with Carol and the embassy kitchen staff about the menu and your Mom is flying in tomorrow."

Harm almost spit out his last bite of salad. Wiping his chin, he stared at Mac, "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't she call and let me know? What time is she getting in?"

"I only read the email 32 minutes ago, I didn't know she didn't call you and her flight arrives at Dulles at 1330 tomorrow. She said not to pick her up, the Bacovian Embassy is sending a car."

"Mom and Carol are plotting together now? Hoo-boy," Harm wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from his brow. "Better you than me."

"Stop," Mac scolded him, "Your mother's a godsend. Do you have any idea how much goes into a wedding?"

Harm couldn't quite contain the long-suffering sigh, "I'm learning." He brightened up a bit, "I heard from Keeter. He's gotten the leave time so he can be one of my groomsmen, said he's looking forward to it." Keeter had actually said quite a bit more, ending with a half-jovial, half-serious warning not to screw this up. Harm didn't think he needed to pass that along.

Mac smiled in return. Jack Keeter had had a soft spot in her heart ever since their time together in the Iranian desert. "That's wonderful. It'll be great seeing him again." She popped a last french fry into her mouth and started gathering the remnants of her lunch, "We'd better be getting back."

Twenty minutes later, they walked into the bullpen. Halfway to Mac's office, she slowed down so abruptly that Harm nearly ran into her. Glancing around to see if anyone had noticed, Harm kept his voice low, "Mac?"

"She's here again," Mac resumed walking at a normal pace, her expression troubled.

Harm looked around again as he followed her. "Who?" he asked as they stepped into her office.

"McKlellan's sister. Why does she keep coming here?" Mac lowered herself into her chair, still frowning slightly.

"She's dating Lt. Pinnella. Harriet mentioned it, remember?" Harm tried not to sound worried. Was this another memory lapse? On a scale of importance, this probably rated somewhere around a minus two but he still didn't like it.

Mac gave him an exasperated look, "Yes, I remember, but why would someone like that keep dating a junior lieutenant?"

Harm dropped into a chair and smiled, "Why Mac, am I hearing reverse snobbery? Rich people aren't allowed to fall in love with poor people?"

She raised an irritated eyebrow, "Is that what you think is going on?"

Hearing the ominous undertone to her voice, Harm held up his hands in a placating manner, doing his best to tread lightly, "Well, it's possible. She seemed pretty down to earth the few times I've run into her." He leaned forward a bit, lowering his voice, "According to Harriet, she holds her parents responsible for her brother's death. Said he'd been heading for something like that all his life and neither one of their parents did a damn thing to stop it."

Mac drummed her fingers on the desk while she eyed Harm before finally shaking her head with a sigh, "I guess it's really none of my business." She couldn't help the uneasy feeling that there was more to Edwina McKlellan's frequent appearances than Lt.j.g. Mario Pinnella. Either way, though, it wasn't Harm's fault and she didn't need to take it out on him. Mac leaned back in her chair, intent on changing the subject, "Has Cresswell said anything to you about finding a new home?" This was one part of the marriage to which neither of them was looking forward. Mac still hadn't quite reconciled herself to Harm's filing his intent to retire.

Harm shook his head. They'd been discussing options off and on since California. He was nearly within a year of reaching his twenty and with the Navy's phasing out of the Tomcats, Harm had finally decided on retirement. He was pretty sure his career had had too many bumps to consider ever becoming the JAG. For that matter, he didn't think he'd really enjoy being anchored to a desk and having to deal with all the political machinations either. Taking into consideration the initial situations of Mattie and Chloe, he'd been looking into various law firms with an eye towards child advocacy but he hadn't been quite sure about it. As a lawyer, he'd be more reactive - dealing with the aftermath of whatever trauma had occurred and he preferred a more proactive role. One option he was seriously considering was starting his own firm, one that combined investigative services with lawyering. It was possible he could fill in the gaps for the overworked Child Services division and rescue kids who might ordinarily fall through the cracks. It was an appealing thought. It'd be even nicer if Mac could eventually join him in such a business but he was pretty sure she was on track to reach her first star.

Mac sighed a little at Harm's negative response. Not knowing where he might wind up after their marriage was just one more worry. Mac had fought him about retiring when he'd first broached the idea. The last thing she'd wanted was to be the cause of him ending his Naval career - again. Harm had insisted it was different this time. He was walking away on his own terms and he was fine with closing that chapter of his life. She was still a bit skeptical although the more he talked about his plans for combining investigation and child advocacy, the more she could see how much he was looking forward to it. Superman was about to form the Justice League. She could only hope in the interim, that Cresswell could find something halfway close that was short-term.

Surprise had been the main reaction when they told their family and friends of Harm's decision and plans. Frank and Trish, after the initial shock, had been incredibly helpful with both information and experience in the nuts and bolts of starting a business. Mattie was mainly concerned that Harm would be happy. Emma thought it was a fine idea and had offered the use of her many contacts at various government institutions. Even Gunny Walters had offered his assistance, giving Harm a small list of former Marines who might be interested in the investigative end of the firm. As the months went by and word raced along the grapevine of Harm's pending retirement and subsequent plans, a surprising number of well-connected people called to wish him well and to offer their support in getting his firm off the ground. Harm, at least, was surprised. Mac was not. He'd helped a number of people over the years and, had he asked, Mac could have told him that his reputation for integrity and passion for truth and justice were well known.

"Harm? You in there?"

He blinked to find Mac leaning forward and waving a hand in front of his face. Ducking his head, he gave her a half-smile, "Sorry, got lost in the what-ifs. Did you say something earlier?"

She smiled at him, "Get back to work, Commander. We can take this up again tonight."

Harm stood, surreptitiously scanning the bullpen before leaning back down for a quick kiss. Standing back up, he smugly overrode her faint protest about keeping it out of the office, "I don't think so, sweetcheeks. We're going to be otherwise occupied."

Mac raised an eyebrow even as she grinned up at him. Sweetcheeks? She would have to come up with something suitably retaliatory tonight, "Which might not happen if we both don't get back to work." Mac chuckled to herself at his sudden departure and returned to her computer. Six minutes later, movement outside her office caught her eye and she glanced up to see Edwina McKlellan walking past, apparently on her way out. Taking a breath, Mac determinedly returned to her work. Despite what Harm had said and all appearances to the contrary, Mac couldn't help suspecting that the woman's motives for hanging out at JAG HQ were being fueled by a desire for revenge. Mac paused for a moment, considering talking to Gunny Walters about it and then shook her head. There wasn't anything to really discuss. All she had were suspicions and, to be fair, it could be guilt that was making her so uncomfortable around Ms. McKlellan. As obnoxious and dangerous as she'd believed Bradley McKlellan to be, he hadn't deserved to die. The fact that he'd been in her custody ultimately made his death her fault. Don Eppes continued to keep her abreast of the case which was rapidly growing colder. They still hadn't found McKlellan's body.

Mac scrubbed at her forehead and made a conscious effort to relax. The tension would only trigger another headache and she certainly didn't need that. Although he'd tried to hide it, she knew Harm wouldn't be able to stop worrying that this was somehow tied to her concussion. Neither of them had time for the distraction. Ever since they'd returned from California, she and Harm's days had been a whirlwind of activity. The tumult of McKlellan case had lasted far longer than she would have liked although Bradley McKlellan was rarely mentioned any more. The Sec Nav had quashed that part of the investigation, pointing out that there was nothing to be gained in pursuing charges against a dead man. She could see his point. She didn't like the unfinished feeling but orders were orders and she had to follow them.

Cresswell had still been annoyed when they'd finally reported in that Tuesday afternoon. Fortunately, most of his ire was directed at the political maneuverings and what they got was merely collateral irritation. Jen had set up appointments at Bethesda that morning for both Mac and Harm, to check their condition and release them for duty. Not surprisingly, they were restricted from field investigations for a good month. It was just as well because they were both buried in paperwork. After the second week, Harm swore he'd consider a mission with Clay again just to get out from under.

He was a happy man when his restriction had finally been lifted. Harm then picked up an assignment on the Abe Lincoln and although he tried to downplay the whole thing while they were together, Mac had seen that he was ready to turn handsprings. It'd only been for about 3 or 4 days and Mac hadn't begrudged him the time gone. Paperwork was never Harm's forte. For herself, she'd known it would take far longer to get back to some semblance of normal. While Harm was gone, she'd met with Cresswell and they'd worked out an arrangement. She could return to litigating but, for the time being, field investigations were off-limits. The General had then assigned her a junior officer to handle whatever legwork needed doing. Ensign Barton wasn't as bright or intuitive as Lt. Pick Tyler had been but he was enthusiastic. Mac thought he had potential and did her best to make sure he received a good foundation as an investigator.

Thursday,

Seven Angels Restaurant

Los Angeles, CA

1205 Local

Margery Threetrails handed her keys to the valet and walked into the restaurant. Stepping up to the maitre'd, she gave him her name and then nodded her thanks as he directed her towards the private rooms in the back. She hesitated for a brief moment at the sight of a large, imposing man standing in front of the door. Straightening slightly, Margery resumed her pace. No way would she let herself be intimidated. As she reached the doorway, the man silently opened the door and stepped aside. Margery stiffened and then chastised herself for being rattled. This was a business meeting, dammit, there was nothing ominous about it.

Stepping through the doorway, she nodded cordially to the man sitting at the table. He smiled pleasantly, "Ms. Threetrails, thank you for coming." He pushed away from the table and Margery noted with surprise that he was in a wheelchair. He waved a disparaging hand, "I hope you'll forgive me for not rising. As you can see, it would be rather difficult."

Margery shook her head as she extended a hand, "Please don't apologize. You're Mr. Ezekiel?" Even in a wheelchair, he was an imposing figure. Lean and dark with a soft Southern accent, he had a forceful charisma about him that reminded her of The Bear. Her breath hitched ever so slightly at the memory of her fallen mentor and hardened her resolve on what she was about to do.

"Michael Ezekiel, ma'am, at your service," he shook her hand and then gestured towards the table, "Please, have a seat. Would you like something to eat?" He snapped his fingers and the huge man stepped into the room and waited.

Margery shook her head, "No thank you, I'm afraid my time is somewhat limited." She sat down and opened up her briefcase, pulling out a couple of file folders. Placing them on the table, she eyed the man opposite of her, "Your firm has a reputation for getting results, Mr. Ezekiel." She didn't say that it also had the reputation of being more than a little ruthless in getting those results. Margery didn't have a problem with that.

Ezekiel smiled easily, "We pride ourselves on making our clients happy." He leaned an elbow on the table and rubbed his chin speculatively, "And what is it we can do for Liwanu Enterprises?"

"Nothing," Margery snapped, stiffening in her seat. She forced herself to relax, "This is for me, personally. It has nothing to do with Liwanu." She pulled several papers out of the top file folder and slid them across the table, "This is a confidentiality agreement. No one is to know you're working for me, under any circumstances. In return," she pulled out a check and slid that across as well, "you'll be well compensated."

Taking the check first, Ezekiel's eyebrows rose briefly before he directed another smile at Margery, "I believe we can accommodate your wishes." He pulled a pen out of the inside pocket of his suit coat and signed the papers with a flourish. Placing the pen on the table, he handed the papers back and leaned forward expectantly, "And what exactly would you like us to do?"

"Two things," Margery replied, retrieving the papers and putting them back in the folder. "First, I need to have an area of the LA sewer system thoroughly searched. I believe that somewhere down there is a package that belongs to me and I want it back." She handed him a folder, "This is the location. No one can know that you're looking and should you find it, it is to be delivered to me unopened. Is that clear?" He nodded without a word and she pulled out a second folder and held it up, "This contains the names of three people I want under surveillance. I want to know their daily habits, schedules and routines, who their friends are, where their favorite places are. I want to be able to find them on a moment's notice and I want weekly reports emailed to the account indicated. They cannot know they're being watched." Margery leaned forward, her manner intense, "Do not underestimate these people. If you get caught, I don't know you. Agreed?"

Ezekiel leaned back, steepling his fingers, "That sort of surveillance is expensive, requiring a number of teams to be done correctly. While we're not a small firm, I will have to vet and hire outside sources and it will take time - possibly four to six weeks to get everything set up." He moved forward again, picking up the pen and scribbling a number on the back of one of his business cards. He slid it across the table, "Will this be acceptable?"

Margery inhaled a bit at the number and then firmly nodded her head. She'd really had no idea how much something like this would cost but if it gave her what she needed, it would be worth every penny. "We have a deal," Margery handed him the folder and stood up, "I understand the prep time necessary but I want to be kept in the loop. I will expect progress reports."

"You'll get them," Ezekiel smiled confidently, tapping the folder on the table as he watched her leave. This had to be one of the sweetest deals he'd managed to snare for himself. Humming lightly to himself, he opened the folder and looked at the first page. The humming stopped abruptly. By all that was holy... a FBI agent? And not just an agent but one of the best snipers and trackers in the world. Ezekiel had been in this business long enough to know a few things and one was that Ian Edgerton was incredibly dangerous. Damnation, he should have tripled that ridiculously high figure he gave Threetrails. Grumbling now, he pulled out the next page and froze. Trembling slightly, he pulled out the third sheet and laid it next to the other two. Former self-proclaimed Reverend and militia leader, Michael Ezekiel - aka John Phillip Trask, stared at the photos of Harmon Rabb, Jr. and Sarah MacKenzie. After all these years... this most certainly was a sign from God. The time for vengeance had finally arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews. It was wonderful hearing from everyone - like meeting up with old friends. Here's the next chapter - I hope you enjoy it. We're still dealing in fluff... ;-)

Chapter 2

Friday

Tiadora's

Washington, DC

1730 Local

Mac and Harriet walked into the restaurant and made their way towards a table in the back. Passing a pair of large, dark-suited men who were undoubtedly part of the Bacovian security force, Mac waved a greeting at the three women who were waiting for them. Trish, Emma and Carol smiled and waved back as the two approached. "Darling, it's so good to see you again," Trish stood and enveloped Mac in a hug before holding her at arm's length and eyeing her critically. "How are you feeling? Have you been getting enough rest?"

"I'm fine," Mac smiled at her future mother-in-law. It still felt odd to know Trish already thought of her as a daughter. She didn't have a lot of experience with motherly concern. Carol and Emma glanced unobtrusively at Harriet who nodded with a slight shrug. They were all aware that the Colonel was not back to her usual self. The two officers sat down and Mac looked around the table as she smiled again, "Harm's going to have come up with another name - lately, he's been going with the 'Gang of Three'."

Harriet snorted lightly, "I thought we were the Mom Mafia."

Trish rolled her eyes, "I'm going to have to have a word with my son."

Their server showed up and hovered quietly near Carol, waiting to be noticed. After a moment, Carol smiled at the woman before directing her attention around the table, "Everyone ready to order? My treat." She held up a hand at the inevitable protests from the other women, "Consider it my initiation fee for joining the group."

"Your Majesty - Carol," Mac corrected herself at a look from the Bacovian queen, "You and Gheorghe are already providing the reception location. That's more than enough." She looked at the rest of her friends, "I should be treating all of you. You have no idea how much your help means to me."

"And we're doing this because we want to," Emma stated firmly, glancing at the others for confirmation. "Right, ladies?" Nods answered her all around. Her expression turned bland as she looked over at Carol, "And since I don't often get treated like royalty, I certainly won't mind being treated by royalty. I believe I'll have the baked salmon."

Carol chuckled at the play on words and then straightened up, sliding into what her kids referred to as her 'Queen B-movie' mode. "A wise choice," she proclaimed with a dignified nod. She raised an imperious eyebrow at the rest of the group, "Ladies?"

Shaking her head, Mac surrendered with a smile and looked at their server, "I'll have the New York strip, medium rare and a salad, please." After everyone had ordered, Mac looked at Carol again, "How's the birthday party shaping up?"

Carol heaved a sigh, "It'd be a nightmare if it weren't for Daniel and Liz. Apparently this is the slow season for the Washington social circuit and everybody who's anybody wants to come." She shook her head, "Half of them could care less why they're attending, they just want to rub elbows with 'royalty' and make sure their pictures show up in the gossip columns. The other half is more interested in the free food and drink. Marius is working day and night on security. Once the coronation is done, we'll have to see about sending him somewhere for a vacation."

Mac grinned, "Will Liz be getting a vacation, too?"

Carol raised an innocent eyebrow, "Well, of course. She's also been working very hard."

Emma propped her chin on her hand, "I hear Paris is quite romantic."

"Oooh, the Riveria," Harriet chimed in, "With a stop in Monte Carlo."

"Barbados is lovely this time of year," Trish tossed in her two cents worth.

Carol held up her hands with a chuckle, "I think we'll have to let Liz and Marius decide."

The salads arrived then and the conversation shifted to more general topics, eventually coming around to the current state of the wedding plans. Without any major glitches to deal with, Mac was happy to let the conversation drift to other areas. All too soon it seemed, the meal ended and everyone made their way out of the restaurant. Trish and Carol had arrived together and Carol was also giving Emma a lift home. Harriet, with some conniving from Harm, had managed to convince Mac that she needed to drive because of a few errands she needed to do afterwards. Mac and Harriet were halfway to the mini-van when Mac heard Carol call her name.

Turning, she saw Carol walking towards her, trailed by the ever-present security. Harriet, after a brief pause, continued on to warm up the van while Mac waited for the Bacovian queen. Once she was close enough to see the expression on Carol's face, Mac raised an eyebrow, "Is anything wrong?"

Carol glanced away for a moment and then exhaled softly, "Not really wrong, I suppose, but I wanted to give you a heads-up."

"About what?" Mac eyed the other woman who was looking surprisingly uncomfortable.

"The guest list for the party. Senator Coughlin's office called to let us know the Senator wished to attend. Diplomatically speaking, we can't afford to offend him so Daniel issued the invitation. I'm sorry, I know this will be awkward." Carol shook her head, "I can't even begin to imagine why he would bother to come. Neither Gheorghe nor I have ever met personally with the man and he doesn't know our children. I'm sorry," she repeated.

"It's okay," Mac shrugged as off-handedly as she could manage, "This is DC. Everyone has some sort of agenda. Maybe he just wants a photo op to impress the voters back home."

Carol rolled her eyes, "Oh yeah, right. We're talking about Texas, you know."

"Okay, well, maybe Texas is planning to secede and set up its own kingdom and he's looking for pointers," Mac replied dryly. She waved a hand, "Either way, don't worry about it. What can he do? Snub me? I'm a big girl and it'll take more than the DC version of high school to ruin my evening."

Carol chuckled while shaking her head, "All right, fine, but just so you know, Marius will have him closely monitored while he's at the Embassy. If he causes any sort of disruption, he'll be out the door before he knows what hit him and Daniel will file a diplomatic protest over his behavior."

"That works for me," Mac grinned. "Honestly, don't worry about it. It sounds like you're going to have quite a crowd. I doubt I'll even see the man."

"We can only hope," Carol sighed. Stepping in, she gave Mac a brief hug, "I'll talk to you soon." With that, she turned and headed back to the waiting limo.

Mac took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she turned and continued on to the mini-van. Harriet looked at her with concern as she climbed in, "Everything okay?"

"Fine," Mac nodded as she buckled her seatbelt. She looked up to see Harriet eyeing her skeptically and shook her head, "Really, everything's fine. Senator Coughlin will be coming to the Dzurick birthday party. Carol wanted to be sure I knew ahead of time."

"Coughlin?" Harriet's eyebrows rose in surprise, "I didn't know they knew him."

"They don't," Mac said flatly, "but, politically speaking, they couldn't refuse when he asked for an invite."

"He asked?" Harriet was beginning to look worried, "You don't think... "

"Harriet," Mac interrupted firmly, "It's okay. Whatever his agenda is, he can't do much at the Embassy. Carol said Marius would be keeping close tabs on him. If he gets out of line, they'll kick him out the door and file a complaint with the State Department." Knowing she would soon be having this same talk with Harm, Mac was organizing her arguments as she went.

"Really?" Harriet grinned a little as she pulled out of the parking lot, "It'd almost be worth it to watch Embassy security bounce him out the door. The Washington press would have a field day."

"They certainly would," Mac agreed, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as Harriet moved on to other topics. She wasn't nearly as sanguine about this development as she appeared but the last thing she wanted was a prolonged discussion about it.

Harriet watched at Mac out of the corner of her eye as she recounted the latest antics of her children and noted with satisfaction when her friend finally relaxed. Maybe she could come up with some reason for Bud to call Harm this weekend and then casually bring up the party. Knowing Mac, she'd probably downplay this development with Harm, too, and Harriet much preferred having a firm plan of action in place for the situation. Finally arriving at Mac's apartment in Georgetown, Harriet gave the brunette an innocent smile, "Tell Harm I said hello."

"I will," Mac rolled her eyes slightly. After years of waiting, Harriet was enjoying lightly tweaking the couple about their living arrangements.

Mac was still shaking her head as she let herself into her apartment. Harm looked up from the book he was reading and smiled, "Hey, how was dinner?" Mattie was spending the weekend with her father and after dropping her off, Harm had made his way to Mac's apartment. They hadn't had much uninterrupted together time and he wanted to take advantage of every moment.

"It was fun," Mac hung up her coat and slid down on the couch next to Harm. He obligingly lifted an arm and Mac nestled into his side, drawing her legs up under her. She cocked her head up at him, "Harriet says hi."

Harm smiled. Now that they were finally a couple, he knew Harriet couldn't always resist a back-handed 'I told you so'. He leaned over to give her a quick kiss, "Did she now? Well, hi back."

Mac grinned and then pretended to pout, "What? I don't get my own kiss?"

Harm raised his eyes skyward and tapped his chin, "Hmmm, wouldn't that mean I'm two-timing Harriet?"

Mac lightly slapped his chest, "Careful, squid. Your mother's on my speed-dial."

"Oh no," Harm leaned back down and kissed her soundly. "Wanna call her now?" he murmured and smiled at her nearly incoherent negative. They settled into a comfortable silence with Harm absently stroking Mac's shoulder. He could feel her relaxing and her breathing begin to even out. After a few more minutes, he gave her a slight nudge, "Hey, it's been a long week. Want to turn in early?"

"What? No, I'm sorry," Mac lifted her head, blinking. "I'm awake."

"Yeah, sure," Harm smiled as he turned to help her to her feet. "Come on." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, "Besides, did I say anything about sleeping?"

Mac grinned over her shoulder as they made their way to her bedroom, "No, I don't believe you did."

Saturday,

Mac's apartment

Georgetown

0820 Local

Mac slowly stretched and then finally opened her eyes, glancing towards the empty side of the bed. Harm was getting much better at sneaking out without disturbing her. She grinned, remembering the unsuccessful moments still outweighed his successful ones. So far the Marines were still ahead. Sighing contentedly, she let her eyes close once again. Normally an early riser, it felt almost decadent to still be in bed at this hour. Jogging wouldn't be necessary today, they'd managed quite a workout last night. It really wasn't a surprise that she was still feeling tired. Hearing a slight noise, she turned her head and smiled as Harm walked into the bedroom carrying a bed tray of food. Sitting up, she slid back to lean against the headboard, "What's the occasion?"

Harm raised an eyebrow as he sat down on the bed and put the tray in between them, "Does there have to be an occasion?"

Plucking a blueberry from the dish of fruits, Mac popped it into her mouth and grinned, "Nope, but that doesn't mean you haven't got ulterior motives." She eyed the plate of Belgian waffles appreciatively.

Harm flashed her a quick smile before assuming a dignified expression, "Hey, I'll have you know I'm as pure as the driven snow and it hurts to think that you suspect an innocent, altruistic gesture on my part is some sort of covert plan to seduce you."

Unrepentant, Mac dug into the waffles. Her expression was one of complete bliss as she chewed and swallowed, "Too bad, because it would have so totally worked. These are delicious!"

"On the other hand," Harm continued on without missing a beat, "after slaving over a hot stove to put together this feast, I do believe I should receive some sort of compensation."

"Compensation?" Mac asked around another mouthful of waffles, trying hard not to grin.

"Compensation," Harm replied firmly, scooting in closer.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Mac murmured as they closed the distance between each other.

Turning off the shower, Mac stepped out of the bathtub and snagged a towel off the rack. Drying herself, she grinned at her reflection in the steamy mirror. Breakfast in bed had never been so memorable and she doubted she would ever look at Belgian waffles the same way again. Running the towel over her hair once more before hanging it up, she slid into her robe and walked out of the bathroom. Harm was still sprawled in bed asleep and she paused for a moment to admire the view.

The room suddenly went dark and Mac blinked in surprise, her eyes automatically going to the window. When she looked back at the bed, she gasped and threw herself back a step, hitting the door frame and banging her head painfully.

Harm's head shot up at the sound of the thump and Mac's muffled yelp. One look at Mac had him hurriedly scrambling out of bed, suddenly filled with worry. She was white-faced and her expression was one of horror but her eyes seemed unfocused and he could tell she wasn't really seeing him. He'd been half-dozing as he waited for her to get out of the shower and been feeling pretty damn smug as he planned tomorrow's breakfast menu. Mac and maple syrup had been quite a combo and he'd been contemplating other flavors to try.

He got his hands on her shoulders in time to feel the rigid tenseness and then she suddenly slumped back against the wall. Quickly Harm shifted his grip to her waist and ducked his head, trying to look her in the eye, "Mac? Sarah? What's wrong?" She shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut and Harm could feel her beginning to tremble. Stepping forward, he scooped her up in his arms and after a moment's indecision, carried her out into the living room and sat down gently on the couch. It wasn't surprising that she clung to him and he murmured soothing inanities as he rubbed her back and waited. After a couple of minutes, he felt her take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Figuring it was time to try again, he ran his fingers through her still-damp hair, "Mac? What did you see?"

She was silent for a few seconds before finally whispering, "Blood. Everywhere, on the bed, on you, everywhere." She shuddered and gripped him tighter, "The room went dark and there was a - a presence in the corner and it was gloating."

Harm wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in closer while he considered what she'd seen. After a little while, he said quietly, "The Sarvantos case."

Mac raised her head off his shoulder to look at him in puzzlement, "What?"

"The Sarvantos case," he repeated. "The murder trial you and Bud are prosecuting next week. I heard it was pretty grisly. Harriet said Bud's had a nightmare or two already."

Her eyes narrowed, "I've prosecuted murders before and this wasn't a nightmare."

He let her growing ire roll off, "I know. What I'm saying is that every once in a while we run across a case where the explanation is simply that evil people exist. You're sensitive to that. Didn't the murder occur in their bedroom?" She was quiet for a long moment before reluctantly nodding. "So maybe when you stepped out of the bathroom, there was a similarity and it triggered this vision."

Harm waited patiently while she digested his theory. Finally she looked at him again, "You think that's it?"

He shrugged a little, "It's possible. I don't know what else it could be. My most serious case involves embezzlement and I'm not scheduled for any overseas trips." When he felt her begin to relax, Harm decided to lighten the mood, "You know, as much as I hate wasting an opportunity, maybe it's time I got dressed." He chuckled as her eyes shot downward and then widened when she realized he was completely naked. She slid off his lap with a muttered apology and he grinned wolfishly before leaning over to give her a quick kiss, "Don't apologize, I certainly enjoyed it." Harm noted with satisfaction the beginnings of a smile that accompanied an exasperated shake of her head and climbed to his feet, "I'll be back in a few."

Mac watched him saunter back to the bedroom before drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She couldn't help shuddering again as she thought about what she'd seen. It was entirely possible that Harm was right. It was rare that she drew a case that merited the death penalty but Sarvantos certainly qualified. Petty Officer Janice Sarvantos had calmly and deliberately strapped her drugged husband to their bed, waited for him to awake and then slowly dissected him. Her only explanation was that he'd deserved it. There wasn't much question of her guilt but insanity was the defense's strategy to keep her alive. Ordinarily, with such a heinous and disturbing crime, Mac would have agreed with the insanity plea and worked out a deal so they wouldn't have to go to trial but after interviewing the Petty Officer, it was chillingly apparent that the woman wasn't insane. What had been apparent was Sarvantos' deep-seated rage and complete lack of remorse. By the time the interview ended, Mac had had a pounding headache. It reminded her of something Avis Payne had said so long ago about how being near that much anger felt like being trapped inside a massive drum. It also brought back unwanted memories of Michelle Elbert.

Frustrated with the direction her thoughts were taking, Mac raked her fingers through her hair and climbed to her feet. Coffee was sounding good. A strong, hot cup of coffee would take the chill off from the inside out. Making her way into the kitchen, she headed for the coffeepot. Pulling a mug out of the cabinet above, she poured the coffee, adding two sugars and a dollop of milk. Turning to lean against the counter, Mac wrapped both hands around the mug, savoring the warmth.

Harm appeared in the doorway a minute or so later. Leaning against the doorway, he folded his arms, "You okay?"

She nodded quietly, "I guess. That really threw me." Harm nodded and walked into the kitchen and pulled out his own mug. Only filling it halfway with coffee, he filled the rest with milk and then cautiously took a sip. Mac watched him in amusement. He had two coffee makers at his place, she might have to get a second one for hers. Knowing they'd be combining households eventually had prevented her from getting another but he really did need his own. She could always donate it to Emma's shelter after the wedding.

Harm took another careful sip, rolling his eyes when he caught her amused expression, "You need another coffee maker."

"I was just thinking about that," Mac agreed smiling. "Want to go shopping this afternoon?" She knew if she gave Harm a little time to cruise the Internet, he'd have all the pros and cons of every type of coffee maker firmly fixed in his head.

Harm nodded cautiously, "For a coffee maker, right?" He had no intention of getting caught up in one of Mac's general shopping trips. Spending an hour or more looking at shoes wasn't his idea of fun. He waited through her theatrically heavy sigh and then smiled when she nodded, "Okay, sure." After another moment of studying her, he gave Mac a somewhat puzzled look, "What else?"

Mac refrained from shaking her head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. It shouldn't still be a surprise that Harm could read her so well, but it was a little unnerving at times. She was used to being circumspect. "Last night, Carol caught up with me in the parking lot as everyone was leaving. She wanted to warn me that Senator Coughlin was coming to the girls' birthday party."

Harm frowned, "Damn. Coughlin? He knows the Dzuricks?"

Mac shook her head, "No, but he asked to be invited. Carol said that Marius would keep a close eye on him. If he causes a scene, they'll make him leave."

Harm just looked at her while he thought it over. Ordinarily, he might have been annoyed that she hadn't told him immediately even though there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. While Coughlin had been unpleasant to both of them, Harm knew the Senator still thought it had been Mac who had talked out of turn during that horrendous case in California. Knowing the man would be at the twins' upcoming party would have also put a damper on what had been a very pleasant evening. The Senator definitely wasn't worth it. He took another slow sip of coffee, "How do you feel about it?"

"I'm not thrilled about it, but I understand why Carol and Gheorghe felt they couldn't say no." Mac shrugged a little, "What can he do?" She gave Harm a crooked smile, "Besides, I expect my knight in shining armor to leap to my defense."

Harm grinned in spite of himself and swept a quick bow, "Senators or dragons, whatever my lady needs."

Mac straightened up, tilting her head to give the appearance of looking down her nose - not easy when Harm was a good head taller - and tapped her chin, "I need... ," She paused, enjoying his expectant look. "I need - new shoes."

With that, the tension eased as Harm rolled his eyes and then shook his head, chuckling, "Why am I not surprised?"

Sunday,

Mac's apartment

Georgetown

1045 Local

The apartment was quiet except for the occasional rustle of the newspaper. Mac and Harm were sharing the couch and the Sunday papers. Harm had his feet up on the coffee table and Mac had her feet in his lap. Breakfast had been cheese and mushroom omelets and once again, had been wonderfully memorable. Even better, there'd been no disturbing vision to mar the morning.

"Anything you want to do today?" Harm spoke quietly.

Mac lowered the editorial section she was reading to look over at him, "I don't know. Is there anything we need to do? Besides that," she added with a slight eye roll when Harm grinned suggestively. The phone chose that moment to ring and Harm did his own eye roll as Mac turned slightly to reach the handset on the end table behind her. "Hello?" Mac paused and then her eyebrows rose a little, "Oh, hi Trish. What's up?" She shrugged at Harm who was watching her with a questioning look. "No, no plans yet today. Harm and I were just talking about it. Did you need something?" ... "Well, of course you can come over ... Do you want to go to lunch? ... Uh-huh, okay, then we'll see you in a little bit ... Bye."

She disconnected the call as Harm looked at her, "Mom's coming over here?"

"Yup," Mac had already pulled her feet off his lap and was standing up, "Come on, we need to straighten and get dressed."

"We do?" Harm couldn't help sounding a little pathetic.

"Yes, we do. As much as I like the bare-chested look, it's probably not the best way to greet your mother," Mac leaned down and gave him a quick kiss, pulling back as his arms started to snake around her waist, "Uh-uh, I absolutely positive your Mom wouldn't want to walk in on that. Up and at 'em, Navy. We haven't got much time."

"My point exactly," Harm tried reaching for her again. He gave up at her exasperated look, "Fine." Heaving himself off the couch, he began gathering the papers together while Mac moved to the bedroom. "You do realize that your refusal could be damaging to my health? I'm pretty sure that repressing my feelings like this is probably a strain on my heart."

Mac stuck her head out of the bedroom, "Flunked anatomy in school, Rabb?" She pointed a finger at the kitchen, "Go."

"You're a hard woman, MacKenzie," Harm called as he walked into the kitchen and contemplated the dishes in the sink. With a sigh, he opened the dishwasher and began rinsing and stacking. He was just drying the skillet when Mac walked in, wearing comfortable jeans and a burgundy sweater.

"Go get dressed, I'll finish up in here," Mac gestured towards the counter and stove that still needed to be wiped down. "Your mom should be here in few minutes."

"Aye-aye, ma'am," Harm handed her the skillet as he walked past, placing a quick kiss on her temple. He followed that up with a light swat to her six and grinned when she jumped in surprise. Humming softly, he walked into her bedroom and headed for the dresser. Mac had cleared out three drawers for him as well as consolidating space in her closet. Sometimes it felt like he was in the middle of dream. No one could be as happy as he was in the real world. In a little under two months, they would be man and wife. Harm was just pulling on a sweatshirt when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," he called as he hurried out of the bedroom. Automatically checking the peephole, he smiled as he opened the door, "Hi Mom."

"Darling," Trish threw an arm around him, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. Her other arm had a large box tucked under it.

Harm eyed it curiously as he stepped to the side to let his mother in. He pointed to it, "May I take that?"

"Thank you, dear," Trish handed it over and then smiled widely as Mac walked out of the kitchen. "Sarah, good morning." Walking forward, she claimed a hug from her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

After the embrace, the three stood looking at each other before Harm broke the silence. He lifted the box a little, "What's this?" Trish shot a look at Mac as she stepped forward to claim it. She seemed uncharacteristically nervous and Harm and Mac exchanged a concerned look. "Mom? Is everything okay?" Harm asked carefully. "How's Frank?"

Trish blinked, apparently surprised by the question, "Frank? He's fine." She held up the box and looked at Mac, "Sarah, I know you've pretty much decided on the dress you want to wear and I don't want you to feel obligated. If you want to say no, that's perfectly fine."

"Trish," Mac interrupted gently, glancing at Harm again, "What do you think I'll say no to?"

Trish heaved a sigh and put the box on the couch. Opening the lid, she reached in and pulled out a wedding dress covered in plastic, "This - it was my wedding dress when I married Harm's father and my mother's before that. I know it's old-fashioned and it would need to be fitted and you've already got a dress and... "

"Trish," Mac stepped forward, stopping the flow of words. She put out a hand to trace the delicate beadwork, "This is beautiful."

"But," Trish tipped her head to the side, watching the younger woman.

Mac flushed a little, "It's just that this isn't my first marriage and, well, I don't... "

Trish drew herself up, having become more familiar with Mac's issues with self-esteem, "Don't you dare say you don't deserve something like this. Hang tradition! If you'd like to wear this, I'd be thrilled."

Mac shot a look at Harm who smiled and nodded encouragingly. She looked at the dress again. It really was beautiful - a classic, timeless design. Slowly she nodded, "I'd love to wear this. Do you think it's possible to get it altered in time?" Although she and Trish were close in height, she was definitely more well-endowed.

Trish smiled happily, "That's the best part. Carol and I were discussing it. Did you know the Embassy actually has seamstresses? With all the formal events, they're a necessity - and she said we could use them."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to take advantage of them like that," Mac protested, eyes widening a little. The Dzuricks had done so much to help with the wedding already, she wasn't sure how she'd ever repay their kindness.

"Nonsense," Trish shook her head, "We'll... You'll pay them, of course." She corrected herself quickly, knowing how Mac felt about paying her own way. "They'll be happy to make some extra income and we'll have the advantage of prompt service. Everybody wins." Trish waited anxiously while Mac thought it over and then smiled happily when the brunette finally nodded, "Oh, that's wonderful, darling. I'm so glad. You're going to be an absolute vision." She carefully put the dress back into the box and closed it up, "Perhaps when you get off-duty tomorrow, you can come by the Embassy and we can get a fitting and see what alterations need to be done."

Mac glanced at Harm and then nodded, "Sure, I can do that."

"Wonderful!" Trish clasped her hands together and then spread them out, "Now, where do we go for lunch? It's my treat."

"Mom." "Trish." Both Harm and Mac protested at the same time.

Trish waved her hands, "I don't want to hear it. It's my treat. Consider it a thank you for letting me help with the wedding." She gave Harm a pointed look, "I've been waiting for the opportunity for years."

Six weeks later,

Friday,

Mac's apartment

Georgetown

1835 Local

"Harm? We need to leave in the next ten minutes or we'll be late," Mac stood by the door of her apartment and tried not to tap her foot.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Harm came out of her bedroom, shrugging a little to settle the jacket of his mess dress. They'd decided to use her apartment for their base of operations because of its proximity to the Bacovian Embassy. Mac knew every moment would count when it came to getting Harm out the door. She smiled as he walked over, looking him up and down, "You clean up nice, Commander."

Harm made a show of adjusting his cuffs, "It's been known to happen." He turned a lascivious look towards her, admiring the way her midnight blue gown clung to all the right curves, "Are you sure you want to go? You know that half the fun of getting into these outfits is getting out."

Mac grinned as she brushed a hand across his lapels, "Don't tempt me." She turned obligingly as Harm picked up her wrap. He took a moment to drop a quick kiss on her bare shoulder before covering it up and then caught her lips as she turned her head to look at him. Savoring the moment, he deepened the kiss, his pulse quickening as she responded, turning fully into his arms. All too quickly it seemed, Mac pulled back, gasping slightly and resting her head on his chest, "Five minutes, flyboy, and then we'll be officially late. Gheorghe and Carol will kill us."

Reluctantly he nodded with a sigh, "Yeah." Opening the door for her, he smirked slightly as she walked past, "Although, technically, they would probably send Marius to do it."

Mac raised an eyebrow, "Dead is dead - you want to quibble about who does it?" She gave her own smirk, "Either way, it would ruin the rest of our night. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Harm tucked a hand under her elbow, "Quit dawdling, Marine, we've got places to be."

They were still chuckling as they made their way to Harm's Lexus. After handing Mac in, Harm moved around the front of the SUV and climbed into the driver's side. Pulling out, he drove to the Bacovian Embassy and the birthday celebration for Cat and Mo Dzurick. An older woman, out with her Maltese, watched them leave and then spoke quietly, "They just left, dressed to the nines... right... the party at the Embassy. We should have plenty of time... okay." Turning, she strolled slowly up the block, following the little dog. When she reached the top of the block, a nondescript green van passed her and pulled into the parking spot Harm had recently vacated. A middle-aged man pulled a couple of shopping bags out of the back of the van and walked into Mac's apartment building, looking for all the world like a husband returning from the grocery store. Thirty minutes later, he walked out again. The woman with the little dog glanced up and down the street one more time as he drove away and then she disappeared into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying the story so far and I hope you will continue to approve. Thanks everybody and a special vote of appreciation to those who took the time to review. Here's the next installment.

Chapter 3

Friday

Bacovian Embassy

Washington, D.C.

1925 Local

Mac and Harm walked into the high-ceiling anteroom, joining the growing throng of people. Mac breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The doors to the ballroom had yet to open. This public celebration of the twins' birthday would begin with a receiving line. It would have been painfully obvious if they'd been late. She felt a tug on her elbow and glanced up at Harm. He nodded to his left with slight grin, "I believe everyone's gathering at the mountain."

Following his gaze, Mac shook her head with an answering smile, "I was wondering if they could be here. Carol didn't say anything about it."

"I imagine Liz would have been the one to ask," Harm commented absently as he carefully threaded himself and Mac through the crowd. Although Bacovia wasn't in the same sphere as Britain or Spain, royalty was royalty and Washington's hoi-polloi had turned out. Amid the rich and well-connected was a decent smattering of middies from the Academy. Harm noted with amusement that they had gravitated towards the same focal point that he and Mac were heading for - namely, an extremely large Marine lieutenant with the unlikely sobriquet of 'Tinker' Bell. It made sense. Harm often thought Bell qualified as a small planet.

Mac smiled happily as they finally made it through the crowd, "Maggie, Tink, it's good to see you." She and Maggie exchanged hugs while Harm shook hands with Bell. They changed places so that Harm could claim his own hug from Maggie. Mac adopted a stern look and crooked a finger at Bell. The big man looked inexplicably nervous as he leaned down and then blushed as Mac gave him a peck on the cheek. Maggie reclaimed her husband and smiled at the JAG officers, "How are you two holding up? The wedding's getting pretty close."

"Fourteen days, twenty hours and twenty-two minutes," Mac replied automatically while Harm rolled his eyes a bit. Without missing a beat, Mac elbowed him lightly in the side, "Behave."

"Yes, dear," Harm had the tone of a long-suffering husband down pat.

Maggie laughed quietly while Tink grinned in sympathy. Mac gave an exaggerated sigh before deciding to change the subject, "Is Pick here?"

Tink nodded and then tilted his head towards the closed doors of the ballroom, "He and Mo are dating so he's back with the family."

Harm gave a soft whistle, "No kidding?" He looked down at Mac with a grin, "Think we're going to be calling him 'Your Highness' soon?" Tink snorted at that. It sounded like a small, muffled explosion that had both JAG officers chuckling as a nearby Middie jumped. Maggie apparently didn't think it was funny at all. Harm and Mac watched in amusement as she glared at the now contrite Tink.

"Sorry, hon," the big man rumbled as quietly as he could manage.

Maggie glanced heavenward and then looked at Harm and Mac, "I swear those two are worse than either of my brothers and that's saying a lot." She glared at her husband again, "You should be happy that Pick's found someone to be serious about. He needs to settle down."

"Yes, dear," Tink sounded suspiciously like Harm had a few minutes ago.

"Oh, you - ", Maggie's retort was cut short by a sudden ripple through the crowd.

Harm and Tink, being a good head and more above the crowd, saw what had caused the movement. Harm looked down at Mac with a grin, "The ballroom doors just opened. It's showtime." They moved forward, staking a place in line as people began to enter. When they reached the door, Harm handed their invitation to the major-domo who, in turn, announced to the room at large the arrival of Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. and Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. Mac took just a moment to shoot Harm a significant look before moving towards the receiving line. If they'd been late, it would have been glaringly obvious. Harm took the silent 'I told you so' in stride as they walked up to the Dzurick family.

El was first and she smiled happily at the approaching JAG officers. She adhered to protocol, however, extending a hand, "Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie." Now fifteen, El was on the brink of becoming a stunning beauty, surpassing her older sisters. Mac smiled warmly, "Princess Christina, you look beautiful tonight." Harm took her hand and gallantly brushed a kiss across her knuckles, making the teenager blush. Aware that they needed to keep moving, Harm and Mac smiled once more before moving to Nicky. At seventeen, he was becoming the spitting image of his father. As he greeted the JAG officers, it was also apparent his voice had settled into the same baritone range as Gheorghe. Mo and Cat were next and Pick Tyler was standing respectfully behind Mo, alongside of Marius Zali and a number of palace guards. He acknowledged Harm and Mac with a slight tip of his head. After wishing the twins a happy birthday, the JAG officers reached the end of the receiving line with Carol and Gheorghe. Exchanging greetings, they moved further into the ballroom, joining the growing throng of guests.

Harm looked around the room. There were guards at the exits and, knowing Marius, any number of security officers mingling with guests or working as servers. He looked down at Mac, "Security seems to be a priority, doesn't it?"

Mac shrugged slightly, "These days, who can blame them? I imagine things will settle down once Cat ascends the throne." She glanced around, lowering her voice, "You know how Carol's worried about Gheorghe. He's never really bounced back since being shot. She's hoping that once he's retired and the pressure lessens, he'll finally be able to heal." Harm nodded thoughtfully. A few minutes later, Tink and Maggie joined them. The four continued to make small talk, catching up on everyone's comings and goings. Tink was finally back in Memphis, much to Major Bobby Perez's relief. Maggie was working as an assistant trainer at a large equestrian complex. The group was joined eventually by Gunny Walters, his wife, Robyn, and their daughter, Carlie, now a 2nd Lieutenant in the Corps and scheduled to deploy aboard the carrier, the Enterprise, in the next couple of weeks. Emma Fine and her date, a retired firefighter/paramedic by the name of Joe Sanchez arrived next and a few minutes later, Bud and Harriet joined the growing crowd.

Mac straightened slightly when she heard Senator Coughlin's name announced, but it was hearing Edwina McKlellan's name that had her turning in surprise. Harm put his hand on her back, frowning a bit at the tenseness in her muscles. He leaned towards her and spoke softly, "Hey, take it easy. She can't do anything here." Mac nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as she tried to relax. Why hadn't the Dzuricks let her know McKlellan would be here as well?

"Maybe they didn't know," Harm murmured quietly and Mac realized she must have spoken out loud.

Taking one more deep breath to calm herself, Mac turned back to the group with an apologetic smile, "Sorry about that."

Harriet glanced at the others and shook her head, "It's okay. I'm kind of surprised, too. Lt. Pinnella, her boyfriend," she added to clarify for the others, "told me that she'd been pretty angry with her grandfather, too, over everything that happened in California."

"Maybe he's trying to make up with her," Bud suggested, ever ready to make the best of a situation.

Mac nodded with a smile, "You know, that's probably it." She didn't actually believe that but was growing a little desperate to turn the conversation to another topic. She turned to Carlie, "So, are you excited about your first posting?" Carlie's enthusiastic response did the trick as both Harm and Gunny Walters began regaling the group with stories of their first deployments at sea. Surrounded by her friends, Mac gradually relaxed enough to enjoy Bud's hilarious recounting of his first disaster-filled days aboard a carrier. It helped that Harm had an arm around her waist holding her securely to his side. His unspoken message was reassuringly clear. No one would get to her without going through him first.

Both Harm and Mac turned towards the doors when they heard the major domo announce the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Burnett. Once the couple had cleared the receiving line, Harm put his height to good use in attracting Frank's attention. After the couple had joined the group and greetings and introductions were made, everyone continued to chat until the lights dimmed slightly. Frank looked up before smiling at Trish, "I believe that's our cue that dinner is about to be served."

Harm glanced towards at the main table and sure enough, the Dzuricks were just seating themselves. Turning back, he, Mac and the rest of their group moved to the tables. Dinner was served promptly and for the next hour, conversation and eating were pleasantly mingled. They were just finishing up dessert when the orchestra began tuning up. Fifteen minutes later, the lights dimmed again and Gheorghe stepped out onto the dance floor with Cat, while Gus Montgomery partnered Mo. The two couples moved across the floor in a stately foxtrot. Midway through, they met in the middle of the dance floor and Cat and Mo exchanged places without missing a beat. A scattering of applause and some good-natured cheers from the middies greeted the move. Harm leaned towards Mac with a smile, "How long do you think they had to practice to get that right?"

"They're twins, they've probably been doing this sort of thing all their lives," Mac chuckled, "I'm more surprised about Gus. I had no idea he could be so, well, graceful."

"Apparently, that was how he won Harley," Trish interjected with a grin, "He danced her off her feet and right down the wedding aisle. Forty-eight years of marriage and Carol says they still enjoy going out once a week for an evening of dancing."

A few minutes later, the music came to an end to another round of applause. The orchestra began their next number and at a nod from Gheorghe, other couples began to move onto the dance floor. Frank stood up and offered his hand to Trish, "I believe they're playing our song."

Harm was on his feet next, drawing Mac up as well, "I think I hear our song, too." Approaching the dance floor, Harm watched for a few moments and then expertly whirled the two of them into the crowd of dancers. Falling into an easy rhythm, the two danced effortlessly around the room. After a few minutes, Harm felt Mac give a slight sigh. He bent his head so that they were cheek to cheek and whispered, "You okay?"

"Fine, happy," Mac pulled her head back a little so she could see him, "You realize the next time we dance will be at our wedding?"

"Can't wait," Harm said, pulling her in a little more closely. They stayed out on the dance floor for a second number winding up alongside Gus and Harley Montgomery as the song ended. After exchanging pleasantries in the lull, Gus and Harm switched places as the music began again. They met up again at the end of the dance and Harm and Mac headed back to the tables. Harriet and Bud were just returning as well. The women sat down while the men went to the bar to fetch drinks for everyone.

Harriet grinned at her friend, "I saw you dancing with Gus. How was that?"

"He's amazingly good," Mac smiled back, taking a sip of her water. "Harm's no slouch but I think Gus could have turned professional if he wanted to."

"Colonel MacKenzie, I see recent events haven't crimped your social life."

Mac froze for a split second and then slowly turned to see Senator Coughlin standing behind her. Slightly behind him was Edwina McKlellan, looking surprisingly uncomfortable. Mac gathered herself, making a conscious effort to speak in a normal tone, "Not that this is any of your business, but the Dzuricks are friends."

"Ah yes, somewhat of surprise considering nearly half of them were killed after they took you in. That seems to be a pattern, doesn't it? You show up and people die. I'm amazed they let you in the door." He waved a hand at the crowd, "So who's child is going to die tonight?" Quiet venom clearly dripped from each word.

"Grandfather! Please!" Edwina protested quietly.

"Senator Coughlin!" Harriet's outraged voice cut through the air at the same time.

The Senator afforded Harriet one disdainful look and then froze looking up behind her. "I think you need to leave. Now," an ominous bass voice rumbled. Harriet turned and saw an angry Lt. Bell standing behind her. His wife, Maggie, stood right beside him, looking equally furious.

"I don't think so," Coughlin recovered quickly, a malevolent smile appearing, "But I can guarantee that you, Lieutenant, can kiss whatever career you had planned goodbye." A hand landed on his shoulder and Coughlin reacted angrily, turning to knock it away. He glared at the dark-suited man who had easily blocked his swing and grabbed his arm, "How dare you! Let go of me or I will have you arrested for assault!"

"I don't believe that charge will stand in Bacovian court, Senator Coughlin, and you are on Bacovian soil." A small, round man stepped forward out of the gathering crowd, "However, the charges against you are growing." He glanced at the dark-suited man who still had a grip on the Senator, "Mr. Zali, do you remember if Bacovia has a formal extradition treaty with the US?"

"Shame on you, Daniel. I thought you knew everything." The crowd melted back as Gheorghe walked up with Carol on his arm. He turned a cool, appraising look at the Senator. Coughlin paled, apparently realizing for the first time that he might have overestimated his importance. Gheorghe turned back to Daniel, "It's an informal agreement at best. Are the dungeons occupied?"

"I'm a US Senator!" Coughlin sputtered indignantly, "I have immunity! You wouldn't dare!"

Gheorghe took a single menacing step forward, "Wouldn't I? You've disrupted my daughters' birthday celebration, verbally abused a dear friend and threatened the career of an exemplary Marine Corps officer to whom my country and family are deeply beholden. I am appalled and offended by your behavior. You, sir, will remain in Bacovian custody until satisfactory arrangements can be made with your State Department." He gestured to Zali, "Remove him." Several more security personnel appeared and herded the loudly protesting Senator out of the ballroom. The crowd parted, murmuring quietly among themselves.

Gheorghe turned to a pale and obviously rattled Edwina McKlellan and bowed slightly, "Ms. McKlellan, I do not believe in guilt by association. You may remain or leave. In either instance, I will have someone escort you safely home."

Edwina dropped a quick curtsey. "Thank you, Your Majesty, I think," she glanced towards Mac and paused, an unreadable look flitting across her face, "ah, I think I'd like to go home. This has all been very upsetting."

"Very well," Gheorghe raised a hand and several more security personnel came forward. At the same time, Daniel and Marius began quietly dispersing the crowd. At a gesture from Daniel, the orchestra began playing again and the servers began moving through with trays of champagne.

"Sarah?' Carol's concerned voice had Gheorghe turning towards Mac.

He frowned. She was pale as she stared at some point past his left shoulder and a fine sheen of perspiration covered her forehead. Even as he observed that, Harm suddenly appeared next to Mac's chair, crouching down so that he was eye-level with her. Within moments, he had her on her feet, one arm around her waist and a hand tucked under her elbow. With a muttered apology and a quick bow, Harm whisked Mac away from the table. Perplexed, Gheorghe turned to his wife, "What's going on?"

Carol shook her head, following Harm's progress through the crowd. He appeared to be heading towards one of the outdoor patios. "I don't know." She shot a look at Marius who nodded and gestured towards the remainder of his people. One of them immediately turned and followed the JAG officers. Carol looked back at Harriet and Tink, "What's wrong with Sarah? Surely, Coughlin didn't upset her that much."

Harriet shook her head helplessly, "I'm sorry, I have no idea." Tink was shaking his head as well, looking just as puzzled as he followed Harm's path across the ballroom.

Frustrated, Carol glanced around the room and then focused on Trish and Frank Burnett as they moved forward against the retreating crowd. Gheorghe nodded to his security officers to let them through. Trish spoke as soon as she reached the group, "Where's Sarah and Harm? I saw security escorting Senator Coughlin out. He didn't try to hurt them, did he?"

"Not physically," Harriet answered after glancing at the Dzuricks and receiving a nod from Gheorghe, "but he did say some pretty nasty things to the Colonel before Marius and Daniel showed up." She glanced worriedly in the direction Harm had gone, "Mac didn't say anything but something was wrong. I'm just not sure what it was."

"Oh dear," Trish murmured, looking in the same direction as Harriet.

"Do you know what's going on?" Carol asked.

"I'm not sure," Trish answered while glancing around uncomfortably, "but in any case, this isn't really the place to discuss it."

"You're right," Carol nodded, putting on a smile. They would have to pursue this later. She looked around once more before turning to Gheorghe, "We should get back to the party before the children converge. They're all working their way towards us as it is." Despite their boisterous behavior in private settings, all of their children were aware of the constraints in public. They were quite good at circumspection. Right now their focus was on their parents and Carol planned to keep it that way. Whatever it was that upset Sarah, she didn't need to have to deal with the Dzurick children's overwhelming, although well-meaning, concern.

Harm opened the french door leading to an outside patio and handed Mac through. As he closed it again, he nodded once to the Bacovian security officer who took up a position in front. Thankful for not having to worry about interruptions, he turned his full attention to Mac, "Another vision?"

Keeping her eyes focused on the ground, Mac nodded slowly.

"Blood again?" Harm prodded gently. He didn't want to upset her more but she needed to get it out so they could deal with it.

Mac nodded once more, "And that - thing - again." She sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead, "I hate this. I feel like I'm losing my mind." She looked up and gave him a weak attempt at a smile, "Sure you want to marry a crazy person? There's still time to run."

Harm pulled her into his embrace, resting his cheek on top of her head, "Don't even make jokes about that, MacKenzie. The only running I'm doing is towards you." He tightened his hold on her for a moment, "We just have to figure this out, that's all." Loosening his grip, Harm ducked his head so he could catch her eye, "What you have is a psychic early warning system that's gotten pretty active lately. I trust you. Now you have to trust you, get past the shock factor and listen. In the meantime, we'll keep our guard up. Okay?"

"Okay."

She still sounded shaky and Harm wrapped his arms around her again. Despite the circumstances, he loved the way she fit against him. After a minute or so, he gently rocked her from side to side and then began in a speculative tone, "You know, Marine, we've got our own private security guard at the door... " As he anticipated, she pulled away enough to look at him in confusion. Harm grinned, "and this patio has some lovely secluded areas... " Her mouth dropped open in surprise and he arched an eyebrow, "Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look in the moonlight?"

She slapped at his chest, "Harmon Rabb! Have you lost your mind?"

He grinned, completely unrepentant, "If I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?" When she stared at him in shock, he kept on going, "Hey, do you have the time? Because I've got the place... I forgot my phone number. Can I have yours? ...I hope you know CPR, because you just took my breath away..." Harm kept firing off all the worst pick-up lines he'd ever heard or tried until she was leaning against him laughing.

She finally got her breath back and looked up at him, "Good lord, Harm, when did you learn to speak lounge lizard?"

"Hey, I'll have you know those lines," he paused dramatically, "got me into more ERs during college than almost anything I've done since." Harm smiled after a moment as she continued to chuckle, "Ready to rejoin the party?"

"Almost." Mac reached up, pulled his head down and kissed him soundly. Looking at the expression on his face, she smiled as she reached up to wipe the incriminating lipstick off, "You know, you might want to try those lines again some time - say, tonight?"

Harm made a show of checking his watch, "Wow, would you look at the time? It's way past my bedtime."

"Nice try, come on, let's get back," Laughing, Mac tugged at his hand. She paused before they got to the door and looked at him seriously, "Thank you."

"Any time," Harm pulled her towards him and gave her a quick kiss. "Ready?"

Mac nodded firmly, "Ready."

Harm opened the door and nodded his thanks when the Bacovian security guard took it and held it open for them both. With Mac's hand firmly tucked in his elbow, Harm led the way back to their tables. He glanced over at Mac as they got closer, sensing her reluctance, "Hey, it's okay. These are our friends, remember? No one's going to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Easy for you to say," Mac grumbled, "You weren't the one acting crazy in public."

"You weren't 'acting crazy'," Harm countered, "You acted upset - which was understandable considering that Senator Coughlin was acting crazy. Marius hauled him out of here, by the way. I thought I heard Gheorghe say something about the dungeons."

Mac smiled a little, "Somehow I doubt it came to that but we can only hope." She took a deep breath and straightened up a bit, "Okay, back into the fray."

"Relax," Harm whispered one more time as they walked up to the table. The Dzuricks were gone but most of the others were there. The men all rose to their feet, smiling in greeting.

Trish took the lead, holding out a hand, "Sarah, darling, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Mac assured her, glancing at the rest of the group as well. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let him bother me like that."

"Don't you dare apologize," Harriet said forcefully. "Senator Coughlin is one who should be saying he's sorry. I wish the Dzuricks had thrown him in a dungeon." The others nodded their agreement.

Harm held a chair for her and she sat down gratefully. Emma Fine reached over and patted her hand, "He's gone now. I think that man's had more attention than he deserves and I, for one, am willing to forget he exists and enjoy the rest of the evening."

"Hear, hear," Frank smiled in support. He leaned towards Mac, "And, when you're up to it, I'd love a dance with my future daughter-in-law."

"I think that can be arranged," Mac regarded him fondly, knowing he was also offering her a little more time to regain her equilibrium. She cocked an ear as the music picked up again after a brief lull, "How about now?"

Frank grinned, standing up and extending a hand, "Let's go."

The rest of the table watched as he escorted Mac to the dance floor and then turned towards Harm. He put up his hands in mock defense, "Hey, no ganging up."

"Is she really all right?" Maggie asked. "She was so pale." Tink rested a light hand on her shoulder as she asked. Maggie flashed him a quick smile, covering his hand with her own and turned back to Harm. She hadn't had as much personal contact with the JAG officers but from the stories she'd heard from Tom and Pick, she felt she'd known them for years.

Harm nodded as he glanced down at the table, absently tracing a pattern in the tablecloth. He was acutely aware that his mother and Harriet were watching him intently. That neither one spoke was a little worrying. Mac would kill him if he started talking about the visions that were plaguing her. He snorted to himself. That could certainly make them self-fulfilling in a hurry. He looked back up at Maggie, "He caught her off-guard. Mac still feels responsible for Bradley McKlellan's death - he was in her custody."

"And the FBI's", Bud pointed out.

"I keep telling her that but you know how she is. Passing the buck isn't exactly her style." Harm commented dryly, somewhat relieved that Bud had inadvertently given him an opening to redirect the conversation.

"Or yours," Trish deadpanned. Harm tossed her a 'who, me?' look that she met with the classic 'are you kidding?' Mom expression. The rest of the table chuckled and the mood lightened. Harm breathed a quiet sigh of relief, shooting his mother a grateful look for her help in getting the focus off Mac. She tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement and then gave a theatrical sigh, "It's a shame all this wonderful music is going to waste and here I sit while my husband is enjoying himself."

Harm grinned and stood up with a bow, doing his best to sound pompous, "Mother dearest, would you consider accompanying me to the dance floor where we might trip the light fantastic?"

"Why, darling," Trish gushed in exaggerated, delighted surprise, "I thought you'd never ask." Their exchange elicited more amusement from the rest of the group and also acted as a catalyst as all the couples got up once more to dance. When the number ended, Harm and Trish caught up with their respective partners. Claiming Mac from his stepfather, Harm was about to ask if she wanted to dance again or take a break when Gheorghe and Carol appeared.

After the courtesies were out of the way, Gheoghe swept an elegant bow towards Mac and extended a hand in invitation, "Sarah, would you do me the honor?" He smiled at her acceptance and escorted her out onto the dance floor as the music began again.

Carol watched them go and turned to Harm with a smile, "Feel like dancing?"

Harm grinned, "I would be most honored, Your Majesty." He punctuated the beginning, end and middle of his sentence with a slight bow.

"Keep it up, Mr. Rabb," Carol chuckled as he led her towards the dancing, "I believe beheading is still on the books for mocking our royal personages." Harm grinned at that and wisely refrained from bowing again. After they'd been dancing for a minute or so, Carol gave Harm a more serious look, "What happened to Sarah?"

Harm hesitated, his mind racing, "Your Majesty?" He didn't want to be the one to talk about Mac's psychic episodes - that was strictly her decision.

"Harm, come on, I've seen you both in worse situations, remember? And I've never seen Sarah look quite like that," Carol pointed out.

Ducking his head a little, Harm sighed, "You're going to have to ask Mac about it. It's not my place and I won't break a confidence with her." He glanced around the room, "Is there someplace private where we can talk?" He'd just had an uncomfortable thought. What if Mac's visions had something to do with the Dzuricks and the upcoming coronation? They were honeymooning in Bacovia so they could attend. God knew there were always political nutcases running around.

Carol nodded, "There's an anteroom behind the orchestra. We can meet there."

"I'll ask her, but I'd rather not promise anything," Harm warned.

"That's fine. In a half hour, if Sarah agrees," Carol assured him although his answer left her feeling more worried than before. She couldn't imagine what was going on. With an effort, she put on a smile and moved to lighter topics. Harm's relief was evident as he responded in kind. When the music ended, Harm escorted Carol back to Gheorghe, the crowd parting politely to let them pass.

Once he had Mac back, Harm began leading her unobtrusively through the press of people. He smiled down at her as they moved, "How was the dance?"

"Nice," Mac smiled back, "And a little unnerving. It felt like everyone and their uncle was staring at us. I don't know how the Dzuricks deal with it on a daily basis. Was it like that for you and Carol?"

"Wait, you mean they were staring at Carol?" Harm widened his eyes in mock dismay. "I thought it was the mess dress."

Mac laughed lightly at his silliness and nudged him with her shoulder, "If it's any consolation, I would have been staring at you."

He squeezed her hand, "Feelings mutual, sweetcheeks." Once they cleared the crowd and had a bit more privacy, he turned to her, his expression more serious.

Sobering, Mac eyed him in concern, "Uh-oh. What's wrong?"

"Carol and Gheorghe are worried about what happened earlier - about your reaction. They want to know what's going on," Harm kept his voice down while glancing around.

Mac stiffened immediately, "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing - only that it was your decision," Harm hastily assured her. He looked around again, lowering his voice still further, "But I was thinking - what if

these visions have to do with the coronation? You know how volatile the political scene can be these days. What if this is a warning for the Dzuricks?"

Mac rubbed her forehead, "It could be that I guess, but Harm, what exactly am I supposed to tell them? There's nothing specific really, other than that - thing. I'm going to sound like a complete nutjob."

Harm pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. He smiled a little as he felt her snuggle in a bit closer, "Okay, consider this. How will you feel if, God forbid, something does happen at the coronation and you didn't tell them about the visions?"

She tensed and he loosened his grip so she could lean back enough to look up at him, her eyes haunted. "Alright, I'll tell them," her voice was a mere whisper.

Harm nodded slowly and pulled her back against him, murmuring, "It'll be okay and I'll be right there with you."


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you again for the kind reviews. I'm so glad everyone seems to be enjoying this story. So without further ado...

Chapter 4

Friday,

Bacovian Embassy

Washington DC

2140 Local

As the music ended, Frank and Trish stopped and applauded politely. Trish turned towards Frank, "Would you mind sitting this next one out?"

Frank shook his head with a smile, "Not at all. I could use a break, too." He glanced past his wife and frowned, looking slightly puzzled. Trish stared at him for a moment before turning around to see what had captured his attention.

A young man was almost upon them. Once he'd reached the couple, he smiled politely and asked, "Mr. and Mrs. Burnett?" When they nodded, he gestured to the side, "Their Majesties wish to speak to you, if it's convenient." Frank and Trish exchanged a look before they both nodded. The young man smiled once more as he turned, "Follow me, please."

Somewhat bemused, Frank and Trish did as he asked. "Half a league, half a league... ," Frank recited, sotto voce. Trish gave him a look and he subsided. A few minutes later, they were escorted into a smaller room adjacent to the ballroom. It was decorated with a comfortable and understated elegance. Gheorghe and Carol were already there and rose to their feet as the Burnetts entered the room. "Trish, Frank, thank you for coming," Carol greeted them. Hearing the door open once more, Trish glanced over her shoulder and was surprised to see Cat enter, accompanied by Marius and Daniel.

"I hope you don't mind," Gheorghe said politely as he welcomed his daughter, "But with Cat soon ascending the throne, she also needs to hear of anything that may concern the family or our country."

Trish shook her head after glancing at Frank, "We understand. It's just that I don't know how important this is." She looked at Frank again, "Really, we don't have that much to tell. Neither of us actually saw the confrontation."

"But you do know something," Carol prompted. "Why did Sarah react that way?"

Trish and Frank exchanged one more look before Frank spoke, "How much do you know about their last case in California?"

"Senator Coughlin's grandson was accused of killing a foreign student," Cat supplied. She glanced at her parents, "I believe the FBI broke up a terrorist ring as well."

Trish sighed, "The whole thing was terribly complicated. The Senator's grandson didn't kill that student but had - allegedly, I suppose is the proper term, been running a black market ring and selling information to the terrorists. When it looked like he might start cooperating with the authorities, the terrorists kidnapped and ultimately killed him."

"I'd heard something about that," Daniel commented, "The McKlellans and Coughlin were furious with the FBI and JAG. Of course, some have said they were more upset about the treason charges associated with the McKlellan name rather than the fact that the young man was murdered."

"And Senator Coughlin blames JAG, and Sarah in particular, for the story getting out about the treason charges. I've heard that as well although I find it hard to believe," Gheorghe said.

Frank shook his head, "It's not true. I have no idea how it became public but I know neither Sarah nor Harm spoke to anyone other than those involved in the case."

"That explains Senator Coughlin but what happened with Sarah?" Carol asked.

Frank rubbed the back of his neck, "Are all of you aware of Sarah's time sense?" There were nods from everyone present. "Well, according to Harm, that talent is tied to psychic ability." Frank paused, waiting for the inevitable reactions.

"Are you trying to tell us that Colonel MacKenzie was having some sort of psychic moment?" Daniel snorted in blatant disbelief.

"I'm telling you it's a possibility," Frank retorted. He looked at the Dzuricks and spread his hands, "When those terrorists grabbed McKlellan, they also took Sarah and a FBI agent. That's when Sarah suffered the concussion. From what we can gather, it actually seemed to enhance her abilities."

"What sort of abilities?" Cat asked calmly, cutting off Daniel's next snide remark.

Frank and Trish looked at each other again. Neither wanted to bring up overhearing bits and pieces of odd conversations that Sarah seemed to have had with herself during that time. Trish shrugged uncomfortably, "We're not sure. There were a number of times when she would know something that she couldn't possibly have been aware of and I know she's had visions before." She directed a pointed look at Daniel, "One of which saved my son's life. Several years ago, Harm's plane crashed during a storm and he had to eject. There was a malfunction and he landed miles from where the search and rescue teams thought he had. He might have died out there but Sarah found him - pointed to his location on a map - a fact that can be corroborated by Bud, Harriet and Admiral Chegwidden."

The Dzuricks exchanged looks. Carol looked a bit surprised while Gheorghe was more difficult to read. "So it's possible that Senator Coughlin's verbal assault triggered some sort of vision," Gheorghe mused thoughtfully. He looked back at Carol, "Will Sarah be joining us?"

"I don't know." Carol replied, shaking her head, "Harm said he would ask. I got the distinct impression that Sarah finds these - ahh - episodes, upsetting and doesn't like talking about them." She glanced at her watch, "But if she does decide to come, it should be fairly soon."

The conversation dwindled to a somewhat awkward silence. Trish took the opportunity to observe Cat. Most of the time she'd spent at the Embassy had been with Carol and Liz. Cat had her own social obligations to fulfill, while Mo was at the Academy. The future queen was the image of elegant composure as she waited patiently. It was difficult to picture her on horseback, recklessly charging into a gang of armed kidnappers while brandishing nothing more than a riding crop but that was part of the story Harm had told of their assignment in the middle of Kentucky's horse country.

Everyone turned at the sound of the door opening. Harm led Mac in and the Marine Colonel stopped dead as she took in the crowd. Carol had a feeling it was only the Commander's solid presence directly behind her that kept Sarah from bolting. Knowing the dangerous situations the woman had faced before, Carol couldn't help worrying what could possibly be bad enough to frighten her so.

Harm put his hands lightly on Mac's shoulders and leaned in, murmuring, "Easy, Marine, nothing but friendlies here." He could feel the tension radiating through her.

Mac took a deep breath, grateful for Harm's steadfast support. She hadn't expected so many people and was somewhat at a loss at how to begin.

Gheorghe started to step towards them but Carol's hand on his sleeve stopped him. He glanced down and nodded at her silent request. Carol moved forward, "Sarah, we owe you an apology. We never should have issued an invitation to Senator Coughlin. His behavior was inexcusable. We will be filing a formal complaint with the State Dept."

Feeling Harm's hands tighten reassuringly, Mac shook her head, "The Senator owes all of us an apology. It's not your fault." She hesitated for a few seconds, obviously reluctant to continue, "There was an - umm - unexpected consequence." Mac glanced back at Harm as she rubbed the side of her forehead, "I'm not sure how to begin."

Trish glanced at Frank and moved up a little, "Sarah, we told them about your vision that helped find Harm after his plane went down in the ocean. Was it something like that?"

Mac nodded slowly, "Somewhat." She turned towards the Dzuricks with an apologetic look, "I'm not even sure what it means, exactly." Taking one more deep breath, she reached up to cover one of Harm's hands with her own, "When the Senator asked me who would die tonight, the room went dark. There was a flash like lightning and I could hear people screaming. I tried to move but it felt like I was caught in quicksand. When I looked down, I realized it was blood." She paused, gripping Harm's hand a bit tighter. He felt a slight tremor course through her.

"There's more?" Cat asked. Her tone was calm but the worry was obvious to those that knew her well.

Closing her eyes briefly, Mac nodded reluctantly, "It wasn't so much what I saw as what I was feeling. There was fear, of course, and anger but it was the hatred that nearly overwhelmed everything else." She glanced back at Harm, "It was an old hatred. I don't know how else to describe but it was so strong... " She dwindled off, staring at the floor. Harm slid his hands off her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her.

Mac put her hands over his and Trish was dismayed to see her knuckles turn white from the force of her grip. A glance at the Dzuricks showed that they'd noticed, too. There was a brief silence and then Mac spoke again, "There was something else there, something that I've seen before. A presence in the background. I can never quite make out what it is, but it's evil and the violence that I'm seeing, makes it happy. It scares the hell out of me."

"This isn't the first time you've had this vision?" Gheorghe's hand reached over to grab Carol's and give it a squeeze.

Mac shook her head carefully, the stress of the last few minutes was making her head pound. "No, I had one about a month and a half ago. Different setting but the same theme with that thing in the corner." Mac looked around the room, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your party."

"Nonsense," Carol declared, looking over at her daughter, "It's a bit unnerving to receive a warning in this way but it's not like we've been ignoring the possibility of some sort of danger during the coronation. Marius has been fielding threats and warnings from agencies here and abroad for months. Unfortunately, extremists are a part of life. We'll deal with it as it comes."

Friday,

Bacovian Embassy

Washington DC

2155 Local

"There they go," Tink rumbled quietly. With his height, it was easy to keep track of the others. He looked down at his wife, "They're heading for the same room I saw Cat disappear into. I guess the Commander convinced her to talk to the Dzuricks."

"We're about to get our own company. Your two o'clock," Maggie replied. She was learning military-speak faster than Tom was learning to decipher her horse terms. He didn't know a fetlock from a forelock or an Arab from a Thoroughbred but he still listened attentively when she told him about her day. His biggest concerns were A. she was happy and B. she didn't get hurt. He still remembered Carol Durzick's horrendous fall just before those lunatics tried to assassinate the royal family.

Tink looked in the direction she'd indicated and tried not to sigh. Mo, El and Nicky, trailed by Pick, were converging on their location. He didn't think he was going to have enough answers to satisfy them.

"What happened?" Mo got right to the point.

"Good evening, your Highness," Tink replied solemnly with a slight bow. He caught Pick grinning at him while Mo looked slightly flustered. She was the more volatile of the twins. His friend was going to have his hands full. Tink knew Pick had already approached the Dzuricks about marriage. They'd asked, and he'd agreed, to wait until Cat became Queen before he proposed to Mo. God knew it had been the subject of countless discussions over the past few months. Maggie had happily provided the necessary female point of view, preventing a number of gender-induced blunders. Half the time, Pick had asked to speak to Maggie first when he called.

"Tink, Maggie! I've been waiting my real hello," El swept past her sister, opening her arms for a hug from the couple. Bell had become one of El's favorite people from the first moment they met and the young princess had been thrilled to add Maggie to the list. She was all for whatever made the big man happy. Normally, when she got to see Tink after a long absence, the first thing she did was leap into his arms for a hug. In the receiving line, she'd been bound by protocol to only offer a hand. Still mindful of the public setting and the ball gown she was wearing, El kept her feet on the ground and settled on a fierce hug for her favorite Marine. Her hug for Maggie was a trifle more sedate but just as heartfelt. Greetings out of the way, El plunked herself on Tink's free side and rolled her eyes at her older sister, "Mo, for goodness sake, have a little patience. Everything's happened already. Getting all worked up isn't going to change anything."

Nicky stepped forward to shake Tink's hand and give Maggie a hug, too. Ranging himself alongside El, he folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at Mo.

Her face reddening, Mo glanced back at Pick for support. He held firm for a couple of seconds before grinning and moving forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders, "Now darlin', I've told you how sensitive Marines are and how easy it is to hurt their feelings. You need to apologize before he starts crying. The room will flood."

Tink mock-glared at his best friend. "You and my feelings are about to have a lot in common, little man," he growled ominously.

"Stop it, you two," Maggie cut in, rolling her eyes. She gestured towards some empty chairs, "Let's all sit down." By the time they'd arranged themselves, Bud and Harriet had joined them. Gunny Walters and Robyn showed up a few moments later, followed by Emma and her date, Joe. The original group waited while Gunny and Joe rounded up a few more chairs. Once everyone was settled, Maggie looked around, "Who would like to start?"

Mo raised a hand and then addressed Tink and Maggie, "I'm sorry about being rude. I was worried about Colonel Mac." She looked around the group, "Is she okay? What happened with the Senator?"

Harriet snorted disdainfully, "He started with sarcasm and moved right to mean. He implied that it was somehow the Colonel's fault that those terrorists nearly killed your family. Then he accused her of causing death wherever she goes and wanted to know who was going to die tonight."

"That horrid old man!" El was livid. Nicky and Mo looked equally incensed. "What did Colonel Mac do?"

Harriet raised her hands, "Nothing. Honestly, after the initial shock it was like Coughlin wasn't there at all. She was looking right past him with this horrified expression. It was weird. Then Marius and Daniel showed up, followed by your parents and Commander Rabb." She paused thoughtfully, "He seemed to be the only one who wasn't surprised by the Colonel's reaction."

"Well, that makes sense, doesn't it? He knows her better than anyone." Bud looked at his wife, "You don't suppose... ," he paused thoughtfully and shook his head, "Never mind."

"What?" Pick asked, after glancing at the others.

Bud shifted uncomfortably and looked at Harriet, "Remember that murder case she worked with Sturgis? She found the body hidden in Rock Creek Park - because she saw it first in a dream, according to Sturgis. And remember when she pointed to Harm's location on a map when he ditched at sea during that storm and the SAR teams couldn't find him? And the time Chloe went missing," Bud was on a roll, warming up to his theory.

"Wait," Robyn Walters spoke up, glancing at Dubby, "What are you saying?"

"She's got ESP - or, um, something," Bud amended hastily, suddenly realizing that Colonel MacKenzie never talked about any of those incidents.

"You're kidding, right?" Joe Sanchez laughed. His smile faded when everyone else just looked at him. He turned a bewildered look to Emma, "What? You all can't seriously be considering this, can you? It's nuts."

"I don't know about ESP," Harriet said quietly, "But every one of those incidents that Bud mentioned are true. I know she was making Commander Turner crazy during that murder case. Mac kept coming up with pieces of the puzzle before anyone else even knew they were connected. I think it was making her a little crazy, too. She doesn't believe in that extra-sensory stuff, or at least, she didn't. She doesn't talk about it."

"You think she saw something after what the Senator said?" Nicky looked torn between dubious and hopeful. He'd gotten over his crush on the Colonel years ago but she was still an admired and trusted family friend. He didn't like anything that might reflect badly on her.

"Well, what else would she be talking about to your parents?" Maggie replied. She glanced from Tink to Dubby, "You two have been pretty quiet. Any opinions?"

"I don't know. I've never seen the Colonel be anything other than professional," Tink shrugged, "She's a Marine." Maggie rolled her eyes a little. Tom could be annoyingly stolid at times. She looked at Dubby and raised an eyebrow.

Gunny Walters added his own shrug, "The Colonel's got really good instincts but so does Commander Rabb. Nobody's claiming he's some sort of psychic." He smiled, glancing at his wife, "Maybe her female intuition is more finely honed." Walters studiously held on to the appearance of nonchalance, knowing Robyn was watching him carefully. He'd never divulged any of the details of that incident in the Blue Ridge Mountains when Colonel MacKenzie had gone missing for a week and knew his wife was curious. Without a doubt, things happened when the Colonel was around. What he didn't know was if it was due to her presence or if she was drawn subconsciously to various areas because something was about to happen. In any case, and against what occasionally seemed to be impossible odds, a wrong would be righted and some crime or atrocity averted.

Mo scowled slightly at the two Marines. Butter wouldn't melt in their mouths right now. They knew more than they were telling and that was terribly frustrating. Just as she opened her mouth to question them, Pick's hand landed on hers. Irritated, she turned towards him only to find he was looking behind her. Mo froze for a split second when she heard him greet Commander Harm and Colonel Mac. Swiveling around, she started to rise only to have El beat her once again.

"Hi, Commander Harm, Colonel Mac," El hugged Harm and then Mac before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips, "Are you okay? Maggie and Ms. Harriet told us about that horrible old man. He was perfectly awful and to think he's a Senator! He should be kicked out of office. I would have slapped him, too, for good measure. Of course, if I had, Mom and Daddy would have been absolutely mortified. Well, Daddy would have been. Mom would have just gone ballistic, although - "

"El, breathe," Nicky admonished quietly. The JAG officers were looking a bit bemused at the onslaught of words from his little sister. His Grandpa Gus was always threatening to ban El from the stables, claiming she could talk the hind leg off a horse and that he couldn't afford a bunch of three-legged animals on the farm. As El subsided, he moved up to shake hands with Harm and give Mac a rather chaste hug. Once that was accomplished, he turned to give Mo a look.

Mo stepped forward to claim her hug and then eyed the two, "Is everything okay? I saw security hauling the Senator off. What did Mom and Daddy say about it? He's not going to get away with anything, is he?"

"Mo, breathe," Pick smiled after sharing a look with Nicky. He stepped up alongside Mo and shook Harm's hand, "Good to see you, sir." His smile grew wider when he turned to Mac, "Ma'am."

"Pick, how are you?" Mac grinned at the young lieutenant as she stepped forward to give him a hug. She always thought Tyler was an exceptional young man.

"I'm good, ma'am." He tilted his head slightly, "How about you? Hearing about that dust-up with Senator Coughlin reminded me of my Uncle Rawley. Mean old cuss and never one to let facts get in the way of a good head of steam. He went off at the family gathering last Fourth of July and Great-Aunt Luce poured a pitcher of sweet tea on his head. She apologized to my folks later for wasting good tea."

Mac couldn't help laughing, "Too bad she wasn't here. I'd have enjoyed seeing that happen." She looked around at the circle of concerned faces and stifled a sigh. "I'm sorry if I worried all of you. I didn't expect the Senator to make a scene here and it caught me by surprise." She glanced at the Dzurick kids, "Your father is holding Senator Coughlin in custody while Daniel files a formal complaint with the State Department. I imagine he'll receive some sort of official censure." Mac looked around the group one more time, knowing that Bud, Harriet and Dubby probably suspected there was more to the story. She had no intention of going into it any further. It had been bad enough talking to Carol, Gheorghe and Cat. Putting on a smile, she raised her hands, "Look, it's over and done with and I'd really rather get back to the reason for this party." She turned to Mo with a warm smile, "Happy birthday."

"Thank you." Realizing this was the best she could do for now on finding out what happened, Mo smiled graciously in return. She'd buttonhole Cat later tonight. Then she turned to Harm and gave him a hopeful look.

Taking the hint, Harm stepped forward, offering his arm, "Would you care to dance, Princess?"

Watching the Commander lead his sister to the dance floor, Nicky turned to Mac somewhat nervously, "Colonel Mac?"

With a reassuring smile, Mac nodded, "I'd love to."

Pick went to stand next to Tink as the JAG officers entered the swirl of dancers. The two men were silent for a moment before Tink nudged the smaller man and smugly murmured, "You only got a hug. She kissed me." Maggie, sitting nearby, could only roll her eyes and sigh.

Saturday,

McKlellan Estate

Silver Springs, MD

2230 Local

Edwina walked into the grand foyer and stood for a moment. Finally, with a shake of her head, she headed for the study. After the events of this evening, a good stiff shot of scotch was sounding good. Entering the room, she took off her wrap and dropped it carelessly on the couch on her way to the bar. Pulling out a glass, she contemplated the various bottles before shrugging her shoulders and grabbing the Macalian '46. Pouring two fingers, she stared at it for a second and then splashed in a little more. Leaning against the bar, Win held the glass up to the light, contemplating the amber liquid before taking a sip.

"Really? After a night of partying, you needed 56 year-old scotch? Why not break open the Bowmore?"

Edwina looked up to see her father standing in the doorway, arms folded and scowling. She stared at him before slowly taking another long sip.

"Edwina!" Stephen McKlellan took a step forward, his face flushed. She'd changed since Bradley's death and while it annoyed the hell out of him, there was also a little thread of pride. His daughter had finally grown a backbone.

"Chill, Daddy," Edwina reached down below the bar and grabbed another glass. Putting it on the bar, she expertly tipped in the scotch and slid the glass down the bar as her father approached.

McKlellan caught it, eyeing his daughter before taking his own sip. "So, what are we drinking to?" he asked sarcastically.

Edwina smiled and lifted her glass, "If we were really lucky, it would be the beheading of the honorable Harrison Coughlin, Senator of the great state of Texas and all-around jackass."

"Win, a little respect," her father admonished automatically before lifting his own glass and grinning, "What did the pompous old reprobate do?"

Edwina leaned forward, resting both elbows on the bar, "Your esteemed father-in-law and my beloved grandfather, chose to make an ass of himself at the official birthday party for the future Queen of Bacovia and her twin sister."

"Really?" McKlellan's eyebrows rose, "Did he start drinking early?"

"Nooo," Edwina took another sip, "He saw Lt. Colonel MacKenzie, and being the gentleman he is, couldn't resist laying into her."

McKlellan snorted, glancing away. If he'd had his way, he would have had that damned woman and her partner gift-wrapped and drop-kicked into the middle of an Iraqi war zone.

Edwina rolled her eyes, "Oh, give it a rest. Braddie's gone and the family's reputation is still intact."

McKlellan glared at her for a second, then took another drink. "So what happened? She start crying? Did Rabb suddenly appear to rescue her?"

"MacKenzie cry? Grandfather's lucky she didn't stand up and deck him - and it wasn't Rabb," Edwina smiled at the memory of her grandfather finally meeting his match, "He attracted the attention of the King - a very impressive man, by the way, and a gentleman - who gave Granddaddy what for, had him hauled off by security and then offered me an escort home to make sure I arrived safely. Bacovia may be a little speck of a country but the man's got class." Edwina raised an eyebrow when her father muttered an expletive, "You could take a lesson or two."

McKlellan stared at her, then deliberately and carefully enunciated the expletive again before taking another drink. Edwina shook her head, chuckling, and poured a little more scotch into her glass. Her father was a bastard but he knew it and never bothered to hide it. McKlellan watched her for a bit and then leaned his elbows on the bar, "Have you decided on a target for your revenge yet?"

Edwina's head shot up as she stared at her father in surprise, "What - how - ?"

He finished his scotch and slid the glass back to Edwina with a smile, "You're a McKlellan, my dear. Someone's got to pay for Bradley." He waited while she poured him another drink and slid the glass down. Raising it up, he arched an eyebrow, "Is it me?" Despite his seeming nonchalance, McKlellan was feeling a bit nervous. He now realized he'd been underestimating his daughter for years.

Edwina stared at him for a long moment before finally shaking her head, "No. You were definitely in the running but the fact is, you were probably the most consistent person in our lives. You're an unmitigated son of a bitch and a lousy father, but you've always been that. We always knew where we stood."

McKlellan looked at her silently. Draining his glass, he put it on the bar and turned to leave. Glancing over his shoulder, he said quietly, "Hire someone. Pay 'em too much to refuse, scare 'em too much to cross you and don't get caught."


	5. Chapter 5

We're getting closer to the wedding. Thanks again to all who took the time to review, it's always interesting to read everyone's take on what I've written. You guys rock. I'm off to my first major fencing competition of the season this weekend. Wish me luck!

Chapter 5

Saturday,

Mac's Apartment,

Georgetown

0130 Local

Harm unlocked the apartment door and held it open so Mac could enter. When they were inside, he carefully relocked everything. Once he'd finished, Harm turned around to see that Mac had already slid out of her shoes and was stretching with her hands on her back. Admiring the view for a moment, he stepped up beside her, "Long night, huh?"

Turning, Mac draped her arms loosely around his neck and rose up on her toes to give him a kiss, "Fun, though." Her expression altered slightly, "Most of it, anyway."

Harm wrapped his arms around her waist, "It's done and the press will have a field day with it. I imagine Senator Coughlin is regretting those three minutes of incredibly poor judgement."

"Two minutes and forty-eight seconds," Mac corrected him with a smile. "And you're right - the other six hours, two minutes and twelve seconds were a lot of fun, although - " she glanced down at her feet with a sigh, "I think I'm going to be feeling all that dancing by tomorrow."

"Hate to tell you, sweetcheeks, but it's already tomorrow," Harm grinned down at her. "I might not know the exact hour and minute, like a certain gorgeous Marine; but I do know when it's time for bed."

"Mmmm," was Mac's murmured response as she rested her head on his chest. Her eyes popped open when Harm scooped her up in his arms, "Harm, what are you doing?"

"Senators, dragons and taking care of sore feet," Harm replied as he turned to the bedroom, "Whatever my lady desires."

One week later,

Sunday,

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

1040 Local

Mac padded out of the bedroom, dressed comfortably in an old Marine Corps t-shirt and a pair of sweats. She was headed for the kitchen, intent on organizing. With the wedding only six days, five hours and twenty minutes away, it felt like she was poised on the edge of a precipice. Everything was done except for the waiting. Cresswell had wrangled a temporary advisory position at the Pentagon for Harm after they returned from their honeymoon. Unlike Chegwidden, however, there would be no attachment to JAG HQ. Cresswell figured that the sooner the office learned to function without Commander Rabb's daily attendance, the better.

Mac shook her head. It would be more than strange not having Harm around the office. She also knew how unusual it'd been that they'd been stationed together for so long but that really didn't help. Mac was finding it unsettling knowing she would be going on investigations and he wouldn't be available to back her up. God help her if she wound up paired with the likes of Vukovic. She was beginning to have some doubts about continuing her own career. Mac hadn't said anything to Harm yet but back when she'd called to offer her condolences about Kate, Gibbs had once again offered to find her a position at NCIS. He'd veered away from suggesting a place on his team and, all things considered, she didn't think she'd want that either. It would be too hard for both of them after Kate. She knew the CIA would love to have her but it would be a cold day in hell before she willingly went anywhere near them again.

Sighing, Mac paused to neaten up the coffee table before continuing to the kitchen. Harm would have a fit if she resigned. He was firmly convinced she was still on the fast-track for her first star. She wasn't nearly as certain although it was nice to hear and she knew he was sincere in his beliefs. Mac did her best to be a good officer and she loved being in the Corps. Her current doubts probably had more to do with the unknown territories she was about to enter. Well, she'd stood on those types of borders before and survived. She'd do it again.

Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, Mac put her hands on her hips as she contemplated her plan of attack. Amidst everything else that was going on, they were also house-hunting. They'd enlisted the help of Ellie Nichols, a member of Emma's Orphan Brigade. Ellie had since proven that she deserved her reputation as a first-class realtor. The right house hadn't appeared yet and Ellie counseled patience. It was a buyers' market and they'd find what they wanted eventually and at a price they could afford. Mac had pretty much gone along with Harm's criteria for what they needed, her only request was a large, country-style kitchen. Harm had teased her about it, considering he would likely be the one spending the most time in it, but she didn't care. She'd had a vivid dream one night about she, Harm and a passel of kids happily preparing for a picnic in a kitchen that had looked a lot like Avis Payne's. Mac had told Harm about most of it. The one part she hadn't mentioned was the youngest child - a pretty little girl with curly dark hair, olive complexion and surprisingly sea-green eyes. Something about the toddler had stuck with her and Mac didn't want Harm to worry that she was obsessing over her childless state.

Exhaling softly, Mac moved to a cabinet. They would be combining households soon and it was decided that whatever they had duplicates of, would be donated to Emma's shelter. The Baylor Shelter maintained a small inventory of donated household goods to help out when women left for their own places. Mac figured she would donate her pots, pans and cooking utensils. Harm's collection was both more extensive and better quality. Pulling up a box, she began packing. She wasn't worried about cooking during the week. Either she'd be eating with Harm and Mattie or going the fast food route.

Mac was halfway through her third box when she heard knocking. Grumbling just a little at the interruption - she'd gotten into a rhythm, Mac moved to the front door and looked through the peephole. Somewhat mystified, she opened the door, "Hi Mrs. Preston. What can I do for you?" Mac spoke a bit loudly. Mrs. Preston sometimes forgot to turn her hearing aid up.

"Good morning, dear. I hope I haven't caught you at an inconvenient time?" Mrs. Preston peered up at the taller woman with a pleasant smile.

"No, not at all," Mac smiled back. "I was packing up some donations for the Baylor Shelter. Won't you come in? Would you like some coffee or tea?"

"No thank you," Mrs. Preston hesitated on the threshold. "I do hate to trouble you but might I stay here for an hour or so? The superintendent is fixing my garbage disposal and Alfonso is simply beside himself with the intrusion." She shifted slightly and Mac saw what she'd assumed was a purse was actually a soft-sided pet carrier. Upon hearing his name, Alfonso, a tri-colored papillon, popped his head up, his tail wagging furiously at the sight of Mac. She was well acquainted with the little dog having met him on a number of occasions and liked him as much as he liked her.

"Of course you may," Mac scritched behind Alfonso's silky ears while he enthusiastically licked at her wrist. "I'm surprised that upset him. He's usually so well-behaved." She wasn't just being polite. Mrs. Preston was a dog person through and through. She was sensible and well-informed, keeping up with her beloved dog world through the internet on a number of message boards. Alfonso was a well-trained, sociable little dog. He had his CDX in obedience and Mrs. Preston was working with him towards his Utility title. He was also certified as a Therapy Dog and made the rounds of local nursing homes with Mrs. Preston's niece.

"I know he is and he likes Mr. Anselli. I think it's those grinding metallic noises that are bothering him." Mrs. Preston leaned in slightly with a bit of a smile, "Honestly, it was bothering me, too. I thought about just turning off my hearing aid but that wouldn't have helped Alfonso."

"No it wouldn't," Mac ushered the old woman in and directed her to the couch. "Make yourself comfortable and go ahead and let Alfonso out. I'll put some coffee on."

"Oh dear, please don't bother. I didn't mean to interrupt your work," Mrs. Preston answered as she put the papillon down on the floor.

"It's no bother. I could use a break," Mac turned around just before entering the kitchen and frowned, "Mrs. Preston? Are you alright?" The old woman had a hand to her ear and was grimacing slightly.

Mrs. Preston looked up at her, wincing again, "My hearing aid is acting up." She sat up and sighed in relief, "It's stopped, thank goodness."

"Maybe you need to have your doctor check it. Has that ever happened before?" Mac frowned in concern, walking partway back into the living room.

"No, not that - ," Mrs. Preston stopped and shook her head, "Well, once, now that I think about it. My nephew, Danny, is a ham radio operator and loves building his own radios. He was showing me one and when he turned it on, I thought the feedback would take the top of my head off." She smiled at Mac, "You're not some sort of secret agent, are you? Radioing messages to the Underground?"

"Oh darn, you caught me," Mac kept her tone light, even as anxiety gripped her, the memory of that psycho Coster coming to mind. Was it possible someone had bugged her apartment again? If so, when, and more importantly, why? With the wedding and honeymoon looming, Cresswell had been lightening her caseload. She didn't have anything more serious than a Dereliction of Duty on the docket. It was an effort, but Mac brewed coffee, then sat and chatted calmly with Mrs. Preston for the next seventy-five minutes. Once the elderly lady had left, Mac grabbed her cellphone and headed out into the hallway. She was about to call Harm when she stopped, frowning thoughtfully. Right now, all she had was raging paranoia and no concrete evidence. Turning around, Mac stared at her apartment door. She could call Webb but there was no guarantee she'd reach him and there wasn't anyone else in the CIA she felt comfortable asking. She stood for another few seconds, thinking, before scrolling down her contact list and hitting dial. After the third ring, Mac heard the other end connect and exhaled softly, "Hello, Gibbs?"

Sunday,

Enroute to Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

1210 Local

"Who is this woman?"

McGee glanced over at the passenger side of the car where Mossad liaison, Ziva David, was staring out the window. "Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie with JAG HQ."

Ziva sighed softly and turned to stare at McGee, "No, I mean, who is this woman? One phone call and Gibbs is sending the two of us to her apartment, Tony suddenly remembers a dentist appointment, Abby insists that we call immediately if anything turns up and Ducky wants us to let her know she can talk with him at any time."

McGee shrugged, "The Colonel's worked with us before, well, not with me exactly. Mostly, she worked with Kate - and Gibbs - and Ducky - and Abby. She saved Kate's life." He fell silent, concentrating on the traffic.

As always when Kate Todd was mentioned, there was a note of underlying sadness. Ziva shifted uncomfortably, a small scowl working its way out. She hadn't known Kate but she was inextricably linked with the woman. Her half-brother Ari, had cold-bloodedly killed the NCIS agent and when he was about to do the same to Gibbs, she had put a bullet through his forehead. As a Mossad agent, she'd killed before but Ari's death was a constant burden. There had to be a special place in Hell for someone who could execute her own brother.

Ten minutes later, McGee pulled into a parking space in front of Mac's apartment building. As Ziva got out of the car, she noted a tall, slender brunette getting to her feet near the entry steps. McGee went around to the trunk to grab their equipment and Ziva watched the woman approach.

"Colonel MacKenzie." McGee nodded in greeting as he stepped up alongside Ziva, the equipment bag slung over his shoulder.

"Special Agent McGee, thanks for coming so quickly. I wasn't sure if your team was working this weekend," Mac smiled warmly at the young man. He'd matured in the last year, gaining more confidence in himself and his abilities as a field agent.

McGee ducked his head a little, "Not a problem, we had the rotation this week."

"How is everyone?" Mac asked.

"We're doing okay," McGee answered carefully, without looking at Ziva. "How about you?" Abby had mentioned that the Colonel had been in California on a case and that's why she'd been unable to get to Kate's funeral.

"It gets a little easier each day," Mac shrugged slightly. She still had dreams on occasion of both Kate and Avis. She could never quite remember the content but she always awoke feeling happy and safe. It was comforting to have even that tenuous a connection with her former friends.

McGee nodded slowly and then turned abruptly towards Ziva, "Colonel, this is Officer Ziva David. Ziva, Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie." The two women shook hands, quietly sizing each other up.

Mac frowned a little, "'Officer' David? Not NCIS?"

"I am the liaison officer between Mossad and NCIS," Ziva stated succinctly, with just the slightest hint of a challenge.

Mac's eyebrows rose, "I didn't realize that was an issue."

Tim cleared his throat, "Umm, so you think someone's bugged your apartment?"

Mac nodded while returning her attention to McGee, "Although I'm kind of hoping you'll prove me wrong." She turned and led the way back to the apartment building.

"Why?"

Mac glanced over her shoulder at Ziva, "Excuse me?"

The Mossad agent gestured towards the apartments, "Why would someone go to the trouble of planting listening devices in your apartment? McGee tells me you're a JAG lawyer. Are you involved in anything concerning national security?"

"Not at all," Mac shook her head as they entered the building. "The only important thing on my horizon right now is my wedding. That's one of the things that has me worried. If this isn't about a case, then it's personal. Harm and I have made our fair share of enemies over the years."

"Harm?"

"My fiance, Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr.," Mac led them to the elevator. "Also a JAG attorney."

"Where is the Commander?" McGee asked.

"He's helping a friend of ours, Bud Roberts, put up a treehouse for his kids. I'm supposed to go over there for dinner." The elevator opened up on Mac's floor and conversation ceased as they walked down the hallway.

Stopping outside the door, McGee put his bag down and rummaged through it. Pulling out a small box, he flipped it on and nodded to Mac, "Go ahead and open up. This is a white noise generator. It should block out any listening devices." Once Mac had opened the door, he followed her in. Placing the generator on the coffee table, he dove into the bag again, coming up with headphones and a device that looked a lot like an ohm meter.

Mac and Ziva stood to the side and watched as McGee began a circuit of the room. He stopped almost immediately at the coffee table. Tensing, Mac took half a step forward, stopping when Ziva's hand landed lightly on her arm. They watched as McGee began examining the table. A minute later, he was dropping a small device into a plastic envelope and sealing it. He resumed his circuit, gradually expanding to include the rest of the apartment. By the time he was finished, McGee had discovered three more electronic bugs. Wrapping them up and placing them in the equipment bag, he looked over at Mac, "Whoever did this was a professional. I'll get these to Abby and see if she can get anything off of them but it's probably a long shot."

"How did you know?" Ziva eyed the JAG officer.

"I didn't," Mac admitted ruefully. "It was my neighbor, Mrs. Preston. She came over and her hearing aid started acting up. She mentioned that the last time that happened was when she was around radio transmitters. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together and get four, so I called Gibbs."

"Any idea who would want you under surveillance?" Ziva moved towards the window. Staying to the side, she peered out towards the street below.

Mac scrubbed a hand through her hair, "I can think of a number of people off-hand, starting with the McKlellan family, but I don't know that they'd actually take the chance." She sighed, "For that matter, there's always the CIA or KGB. I wouldn't put it past either of them."

Ziva glanced back at the JAG officer with a slight frown. The woman seemed perfectly serious, and McGee seemed to be taking her seriously. She shrugged to herself. She would ask Gibbs about it when they got back. Ziva turned her attention to the window again, "Those types of transmitters do not have a long range. Have you noticed any strange vehicles or people around this building?"

Mac walked up to the window, scowling a little in thought, "I can't say that I have..." She straightened suddenly, pointing, "That woman with the white dog, the Maltese. I've been seeing her for the last week but not before that. I thought she was a new tenant." Ziva was nearly to the door before Mac had finished speaking. After hesitating for a second, Mac hurried after the Mossad agent. She had to pull up short when McGee stepped into her path.

"Stay here, Colonel. Please," he added when her expression darkened. "Gibbs will kill me if anything happens to you."

"She needs back-up," Mac waved a hand after Ziva in exasperation.

"Yes, ma'am, and I'll go as soon as I have your word you'll stay here," McGee stood firm.

"Fine, okay," Mac snapped irritably. When McGee still didn't move, she rolled her eyes, "You have my word." The NCIS agent was gone in the next instant and Mac strode angrily towards the window. At the very least, she could watch. What the hell was going on? Halfway to the window, she stopped and headed back to the front door. Reaching behind the foyer table, Mac pulled out a small pistol and tucked it into the waistband of her sweatpants. Being prepared wasn't just for Boy Scouts.

Ziva ignored the elevator, choosing instead to race down the stairs. When she hit the ground floor, she by-passed the front entry and headed for a side door. Once out of the building, she paused for a moment to peer around the corner. Noting that her target's back was turned, Ziva hurried across the street, slowing down to a casual walk as she drew near.

"What an adorable little dog! May I?"

Julia Langsford stiffened for a moment before turning around with a bright smile, "Of course. He loves people." She watched as the young, dark-haired woman knelt down to pet the happily bouncing Maltese. This was one of the people that had shown up at MacKenzie's place. She'd heard from Maury that the bugs had quit working a few minutes ago so the woman had to be a Federal agent of some kind. The question was, did they suspect her or did they think she might be a witness? Either way, running was out of the question. Julia wished briefly that they'd have given her a Doberman or a Rottweiler instead of this yappy little thing. She blinked as she realized the woman had just asked her a question, "I'm sorry, would you repeat that?"

"I said, what's his name?" Ziva eyed the woman carefully. She was uncomfortable, to say the least, and apparently surprised by the question. Definitely not a typical dog-owner.

"Umm, Maestro," Julia stammered, her eyes now on the young man who'd just walked out of MacKenzie's building.

"Do you live around here?" Ziva continued playing with the dog while surreptitiously scanning the area. There didn't seem to be any suspicious vehicles around.

"Down around the corner," Julia tensed as the man walked towards them. With an effort, she focused on the woman, "Do you live in these apartments?"

Ziva stood up as Tim drew nearer, still smiling pleasantly. "Oh no, my boyfriend and I were just visiting a friend. Timmy!," she gushed, as McGee joined them, "Isn't this the most adorable dog you've ever seen? We should get one!"

The confused look on McGee's face was perfect as he looked from Ziva to the dog and back again, "You want a dog?"

Ziva rolled her eyes, "Of course, we've talked about this before. You said I could have a dog. What kind is he?" Ziva smiled at Julia.

"He's a Maltese," Julia supplied, wondering now if she'd made a mistake. These two didn't act like any Federal agents she'd ever seen. Maybe it was just a coincidence that the bugs weren't working. She relaxed a little.

"May I hold him?" Ziva asked, smiling hopefully. When Julia nodded, she scooped the little dog up and turned to McGee, "See? He's just the right size."

"Ziva," McGee glanced at Julia and cleared his throat, "Honey, we don't - ".

"Ooo, take a picture of us, Timmy. I want your sister Abby to see him. You know how she loves dogs," Ziva stepped up next to Julia, holding the dog in between. Tim's eyes widened slightly. He hurriedly pulled out his phone and snapped several pictures. As he opened his mouth, Ziva interrupted, "Now we need a picture of the two of us." She turned to Julia, "Would you mind? Timmy, give her your phone. Don't fuss, it'll only take a minute." She rolled her eyes at Julia before plucking Tim's phone out of his grasp and handing it to the woman. "Just push the button," she ordered, standing next to an uncomfortable looking McGee.

Somewhat bemused, Julia snapped the picture. "Thank you," Ziva reached forward, exchanging the dog for the phone. Sliding the device into her pocket, she threaded her arm through McGee's, "We need to go, Timmy. You know how Uncle Leroy hates it when we're late." She directed another brilliant smile at Julia, "Thanks again, Maestro is a wonderful little dog." She turned Tim around and walked away leaving Julia staring after them.

"Where are we going?" Tim muttered as he let Ziva drag him down the street.

"Down around the corner where their surveillance vehicle is parked," Ziva stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Tim's eyes widened, "How do you know that?"

Ziva glanced at him with a grin, "She told me. I asked where she lived and she said the first thing that popped into her head."

"But that doesn't mean... " Tim stopped as they rounded the bend and he saw a non-descript, green panel van in a parking slot ahead of them. With an effort, he put on a smile as he looked over at Ziva. "How do you want to do this?" he murmured.

Ziva smiled back at him, "Keep walking, dear."

Mac watched as first David and then McGee approached the woman. She frowned, rubbing the back of her neck. It looked like they were talking about the dog. Mac shifted uncomfortably, glancing over her shoulder now and then at the empty apartment. Something wasn't right. Telling herself to get a grip, Mac looked out the window again and froze. The NCIS agents were gone and so was the normal view of the neighborhood. In its place was a dark, forbidding landscape. The blood-red sun gave everything a hellish appearance. Her heart racing, Mac gripped the side of the window, fighting the instinct to run. She needed to understand this. With an effort, she concentrated on the scene in front of her. The harsh land appeared mountainous in the background. She was looking at a clearing strewn with boulders and an ink-black pool to the side. Mac tensed as a shadow detached itself and moved to middle of the clearing. It pulsed and throbbed, growing larger and more menacing. Mac gulped, feeling the sweat begin to run down her back. She suddenly felt trapped, unable to break away.

Mac's eyes widened in shock when the darkness reared up and flung itself at her, sounding like an express train. A second later, there was a resounding crack and a blinding flash of light. Her ears ringing and unable to see, Mac found herself on the floor of her apartment, panting like she'd just run a marathon. She felt a hand on her shoulder and reacted instinctively, grabbing the wrist and twisting as she scissored her long legs. Moments later, her vision cleared enough to realize it was McGee she'd pinned to the floor. Muttering an apology, she pulled her pistol away from the side of his head and let him go. Drawing her knees up, she scrubbed a hand through her hair as she remained sitting on the floor, watching McGee scramble to his feet.

"Impressive, Colonel."

Mac turned her head to see Ziva David leaning against the door frame with a slight smile.

"What did you expect? She's a Marine."

The sound of Gibbs' voice behind her had the Mossad officer straightening abruptly. Mac might have found it amusing if she'd hadn't been busily consulting her internal clock. She could have sworn that vision had only lasted twenty or thirty seconds, yet her time sense was telling her that it had been twenty-two minutes and thirty-five seconds. She looked up when Gibbs stopped beside her and reached down a hand. Taking it, Mac let him haul her to her feet. She'd barely regained her balance when her head exploded in pain and she suddenly went limp.

Gibbs caught Mac as she went down. Carefully, he lowered her to the floor and frowned as he put a hand to the side of her face. She was pale and her skin was cold and clammy. "Call an ambulance," he barked, moving to check her pulse. Gibbs glanced up to see McGee and Ziva both staring at him, "Move, dammit, she's going into shock!"

McGee shut his mouth with a snap. Ziva was already on her phone so he hurried to the couch, grabbing a couple of throw pillows and a folded afghan. Kneeling down next to the Marine Colonel, he slid the pillows under her feet and covered the rest of her with the afghan. Finally, he looked over at Gibbs, "Boss, I don't know how this happened. I had her stay here while we went to talk to that woman with the dog. I thought she'd be safer in the apartment."

"Not your fault, McGee." Gibbs kept his attention on Mac while he pulled out his cellphone, "Ducky? I'm at Sarah MacKenzie's place. We've got a problem. She just collapsed on me… yeah, Ziva called an ambulance… she's trying to go into shock… uh-huh, we're doing that… hang on… " He pulled the cellphone away from his ear, "McGee, get out your flashlight." Gibbs pried open each of Mac's eyelids in turn as McGee flashed the light. He went back to the cellphone, "Both pupils are reacting to light. That's good, right?… okay, she'll be going to Bethesda."


	6. Chapter 6

We're getting to the serious stuff. It's almost time for the wedding! ;-) I hope everyone is still enjoying this and to all who took time to review - thank you very much.

BTW, made it through the competition. This one gets harder every year (and the fencers seem to get younger!). Didn't finish as high as I would have liked, pretty much in the middle of the pack. Ran into a kid in the first elimination round who was younger, faster and better than me - 3 things I hate in an opponent. Still, this is one tournament that's like fencing at the national level without the national level fees. I had fun and I was happy with my first round bouts - something to build on this season. Well, enough about that - on with the story!

Chapter 6

Sunday,

National Naval Med Center

Bethesda, MD

1335 Local

Harm hurried up to the reception desk. Before he could ask about Mac, he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw Gibbs walking towards him. With a scowl, Harm pivoted and met the NCIS agent halfway, "What the hell happened to Mac?"

Gibbs raised his hands, "I don't know. They're still checking her out."

"Why was NCIS even there?" Harm demanded.

"She called me, Rabb," Gibbs replied, looking exasperated. "She thought her apartment was bugged. I sent two of my team over. She was right."

"What?" Harm straightened in surprise.

"Her apartment was bugged," Gibbs repeated impatiently. "McGee found and disabled them. They were short-range so he and Ziva went looking for a surveillance vehicle. They left Mac in her apartment. They found the van, called me and took the scumbag into custody. Then we went back to the apartment and found her on the deck." Gibbs grinned briefly, "When McGee went to check her, she dumped him on his ass and stuck a gun in his ear."

"Then what… ?" Harm stared at the older man in confusion.

"Like I said before, I don't know," Gibbs shook his head, "She seemed okay. I gave her a hand up, she grabbed at her head and dropped like a rock. Then she started to go into shock. We called an ambulance and got her here."

Harm blanched, "Oh god… "

"Ducky said it probably wasn't a stroke. I called him. Paramedics said the same thing," Gibbs reassured the Commander. He gestured to the left, "Waiting room's over there. Coffee sucks."

Harm couldn't help smiling a bit at the last comment as the two men walked down the hallway. He dropped into a chair and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Looking up at Gibbs, he arched an eyebrow, "Seems like we've done this before."

"Yeah," Gibbs leaned against the wall and folded his arms, his expression unreadable.

Silence settled in between the two men. After a few minutes, Harm cleared his throat, "I was sorry to hear about Kate. Mac took it pretty hard."

Gibbs nodded silently, studying a spot on the floor. After a moment or two, he said quietly, "She was on her way to being a hell of an agent."

"Yeah," Harm folded his hands and lapsed into silence again. Mac hadn't mentioned Kate or Avis in the last several months. At first, he'd been relieved. Now he found himself wishing he knew if they were still around. He didn't think so. If they had been, they would have stopped whatever the hell it was that had happened to Mac.

"Commander Rabb?"

Harm's head shot up and he hurriedly climbed to his feet, "Dr. Hawthorne, how is she?"

"Awake, coherent and annoyed," Captain Eric Hawthorne, MD, smiled up at the tall Commander. "I've got her scheduled for a CT scan and we're going to keep her overnight as a precaution. She's not happy."

Harm shook his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair, damn stubborn Marine. He took a deep breath, "What's wrong? Why did this happen? Is it because of the concussion?"

The doctor hesitated, glancing at Gibbs. Harm waved a hand, "It's okay. Dr. Hawthorne, this is Special Agent Gibbs with NCIS. He's a friend. He was there when Mac collapsed." He looked over at Gibbs, "This is Mac's doctor, Captain Eric Hawthorne. He's been treating her since we got back from California."

Dr. Hawthorne nodded politely as he shook hands with Gibbs. He looked over at Harm, "I'm afraid I don't know what to tell you about Colonel MacKenzie. Just going from her symptoms, I would have suspected some sort of electrical shock but there doesn't seem to be any physical evidence. I'll know more when the tests come back. In the meantime, if you'd like to see her - go down this hallway, turn left and she's the second door on the right."

"Thanks, Doc," Harm nodded to the Captain. He watched the doctor leave and looked over at Gibbs, "Are you coming?"

Gibbs nodded, "Yeah, if you don't mind. Abby and Ducky will want to know how she is."

The two men walked down the hallway. When they reached Mac's door, Harm knocked lightly before opening it. Gesturing to Gibbs to wait for a moment, he walked into the room. Reaching the side of the bed, he leaned in to give her a quick hug and kiss, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

Mac huffed a little, "I'm fine. Captain Hawthorne's just being paranoid."

Harm regarded her sternly, "Good." He gestured towards the door, "Gibbs is waiting. Can he come in? He won't admit it but I think you scared the hell out of him."

Mac hesitated briefly, "Yeah, sure." Looking down at the bed sheet, she nervously smoothed out the wrinkles while Harm went to the door. She wasn't quite sure what to tell Gibbs about what happened. She knew he'd want to know, and she also knew he'd be able to tell if she was holding back. Mac was fairly certain the truth wasn't going to fly either.

"Colonel, you okay?"

Mac looked up to see Gibbs by her bedside. Harm was a little behind him, standing with his arms folded. She gave him a quick smile, "Yes, thank you."

Gibbs shifted a bit, frowning just a little, "Mind telling me what happened? Your apartment door was still locked. When you didn't answer, Ziva picked the locks. You were already down."

Mac plucked at the covers, feeling somewhat relieved. The way he'd phrased the question meant she could answer truthfully, "I'm not really sure. I remember a bright white light and a loud crack like a lightning strike and the next thing I know I'm on the floor. When I felt the hand on my shoulder, I just reacted. McGee's alright, isn't he?"

Gibbs snorted, "He's fine." He tilted his head to the side, "Do you remember touching anything or seeing anybody?"

"No," Mac shook her head. "I was at the window watching McGee and Ziva talk to that woman with the dog. Was she involved?"

"We think so," Gibbs glanced back at Harm, "We didn't pick her up. Ziva got her photo and prints and we got the guy in the surveillance van. We set up our own surveillance on the woman. We figure she'll have to go to whoever's in charge to find out what to do next."

Harm nodded, "You'll let us know where this goes?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to send a team to sweep your place, too." Gibbs looked back down at Mac and half-grinned, "Take care of yourself, Colonel. Abby's been planning her outfit for your wedding for a month. Don't disappoint her. Rabb." The NCIS agent pivoted and walked out.

"Bye, Gibbs. Nice talking to you. Drop by anytime. Let's do lunch," Harm rolled his eyes. He hadn't seen the man in months but Gibbs hadn't changed much.

"Harm," Mac admonished, "Stop that. Gibbs is a good man."

"You're just saying that because he likes you," Harm grumped as he pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. "He always has."

Mac grinned at him, "Jealous?"

"No," Harm snorted. He eyed her for a moment, "So what really happened? Was this another vision or something?"

Mac sobered, "Yeah, except this time I tried to figure out what it was about." She gingerly rubbed her temples, "Believe me, I won't make that mistake again."

Harm straightened up in alarm, "Wait a minute. Are you saying something in your vision attacked you? How is that even possible?"

"I don't know," Mac sighed, glancing away and frowning a little in frustration, "I could almost swear it's happened, or tried to happen before but I can't seem to bring it into focus." After a moment, she leaned back into the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut, "I really hate this."

"I know," Harm reached up to lightly caress the side of her face, smiling as she turned her head into his hand. They sat quietly for a little while before Harm cleared his throat, "Gibbs said you called him because your apartment was bugged?"

Mac reluctantly opened her eyes, "Mrs. Preston stopped by and her hearing aid started going haywire. She mentioned the only other time that's happened was when her nephew was showing her a radio transmitter he built. As soon as she left, I called Gibbs. He sent over Agent McGee and a Ziva David." Mac paused slightly, "She's Mossad."

Harm frowned, "And she's with NCIS? That seems odd."

Mac shrugged, "Well, she's on Gibbs' team so he must trust her." She picked up the story again, "Anyway, McGee found four bugs, Ziva said they were short-range and they went out to see if they could find who was listening." Mac huffed a little, "McGee made me promise to stay in the apartment."

Harm rolled his eyes at her obvious annoyance and mentally gave McGee points for standing up to his rather formidable fiancee, "When did the vision start?"

"When I was watching out the window." Mac paused, shifting uncomfortably, "I kept feeling like something was wrong, like I wasn't alone. I glanced around the apartment and when I looked back, it was there. It was a clearing high up in the mountains. There were boulders and a pool of water. It was almost dark and the sky was blood-red." She took a deep breath, grasping the hand Harm offered, "Then this shadow-thing moved into the clearing. It saw me. I couldn't break away and it kept growing bigger and bigger. Then it launched itself at me."

She stopped and Harm stared at her, more worried than he cared to admit, "What happened then?"

Mac looked at him, "What I told Gibbs. There was this blinding light and a loud crack and I found myself on the floor."

"I don't understand," Harm frowned, "Why didn't something like this happen with the other visions?"

"I'm not sure," Mac replied slowly, obviously thinking it over. "Maybe because this time I tried to control it? The other times - they always felt like I was watching through a window. I could see everything but I wasn't really part of it. This time," she hesitated with an involuntary shudder, "this time, that thing knew I was there."

Harm shifted over to the bed and opened his arms, "Come here." Mac gratefully nestled into his embrace as he rested his chin on the top of her head. "Well, whatever it was trying obviously failed. You're still here."

"More or less," Mac agreed softly as she leaned against him. "Although I'd rather not go through that again."

"Which is why you're spending the night here," Harm concluded. "Doc Hawthorne wants to run some more tests."

"Harm, I told you, I'm fine. Whatever all that was, is done and gone. I don't need to be in here," Mac pushed herself up enough to look Harm in the eye.

Harm stared right back, "You passed out and started to go into shock. Dr. Hawthorne has no idea why and, frankly, I'd rather not take any chances." He leaned forward and gave her a kiss, "We have a wedding to attend, you know, and I'd prefer you had a clean bill of health. Humor me."

"Fine," Mac grumbled softly, returning to her place in his arms. She tilted her head up a little, "But first thing in the morning, I'm outta here."

"I know," Harm replied.

Monday,

Rashnu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

1845 Local

Michael Ezekiel leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk, his voice deceptively mild, "Explain."

Drew Letiro swallowed nervously, "We're not sure exactly. Somehow, she figured it out. NCIS showed up and grabbed Maury and the van. Julia got away. After that, NCIS swept Rabb's place too and found the bugs there. We had to pull the rest of the teams."

"They grabbed Maury," Ezekiel repeated softly. "Can they trace him back to us?" When Letiro shook his head, Ezekiel regarded him thoughtfully, "You're sure?"

Letiro raised his hands, "We set up a blind corporation and routed the money through a number of off-shore accounts. None of the teams have any clear idea of who hired them or provided the equipment." He smiled hopefully as Ezekiel nodded slowly.

Ezekiel suddenly slammed a fist on the desk causing Letiro to jump, "I WILL NOT tolerate this sort of incompetence. It WILL NOT happen again. Do you understand?" When Letiro nodded frantically, Ezekiel leaned back with a pleasant smile, "What have you learned?"

Blinking at the sudden change, Letiro pulled a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase, "Well, Rabb and MacKenzie are getting married this Saturday."

"Are they? Can we get someone into the wedding or the reception?" Ezekiel steepled his fingers as he looked expectantly at Letiro.

Letiro gulped, "I don't think that's a good idea, sir. There's a ton of security. The royal family of Bacovia is attending and the reception is being held at their Embassy." He waved a paper, "The guest list is full of law enforcement. There's FBI, NCIS, CIA, the DC police - we'd have a better chance storming the White House." Letiro dwindled off, watching his mercurial boss carefully.

Ezekiel was silent for several long minutes before looking at Letiro again, "What about the honeymoon? Do you know where they're going?"

Letiro shuffled through the papers, positive he was going to set Ezekiel off again, "They're not going anywhere right away. Thirteen days from now, the current King of Bacovia is stepping down and his oldest daughter will ascend the throne. The Rabbs will be attending the coronation and spending the week." Letiro shifted nervously as Ezekiel merely stared at him. He breathed a sigh of relief when Ezekiel waved a hand in dismissal, gathering up his papers and heading for the door. As he reached the doorway, Letiro gritted his teeth and turned around, "Uh, sir? What should I put in my weekly report?"

"Make something up."

Letiro straightened slightly in surprise, not sure he'd heard right, "Excuse me, did you say 'make something up'?"

Ezekiel raised an eyebrow, "You heard correctly. Make something up - make it plausible. This is a lucrative account that I have no intention of losing. You will make up information until we can get assets in place again. Go."

Ezekiel watched Letiro close the office door and then sat for long while as he considered his next move. Finally, he pushed a button on the intercom, "Mr. Harper? Come in here, please."

A moment later, Harper walked in and stood expectantly. Ezekiel smiled at him, "I need you to assemble a team. We're going to attend a coronation in Bacovia."

Wednesday,

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

1930 Local

Mattie stood up from the table and leaned over to take Mac's empty plate, "I'll clean up. Why don't you go sit down?"

Mac met Harm's eyes and bit back a sigh, instead smiling at the teenager, "Thank you." Ever since she'd been released from the hospital, everyone had been treating her like she was made out of glass. While she was getting heartily tired of it, she also knew she'd scared the hell out of practically everyone. This was payback. Harm had been a rock through the whole thing, letting to her vent when she began feeling smothered and discussing all three of the visions. They hadn't really figured anything out but the horror had lessened somewhat with continued scrutiny. Harm was still certain it had something to do with Bacovia. Mac didn't disagree but she could have wished for something a little more tangible.

"When does Chloe get in?"

Surprised, Mac looked up at Mattie from her spot on the couch. Dammit, she'd managed to lose track of time yet again. It was unnerving. Taking a breath, she put on a smile, "Tomorrow afternoon. You two can meet face to face over dinner." Apparently, Chloe and Mattie had been getting to know each other via the internet. "She didn't email you her itinerary?"

Mattie shrugged, "She wasn't sure which flight her dad was going to put her on." She turned a hopeful look to Harm as he walked over from the kitchen, "We were thinking about going to the mall and doing some shopping. Would that be okay?"

Harm folded his arms as he nodded, "So long as you don't buy everything in the mall. How do you plan to get there?" Mattie had her driver's license but Harm had yet to allow her to go solo in DC traffic.

Mattie grinned, "Grandma Trish said she'd take us."

Harm rolled his eyes, "Okay, just don't let HER buy you everything in the mall."

"Promise," Mattie flung herself at him, giving him a hug and a peck on the cheek. Pivoting, she did the same to Mac and then headed for the door, "I got homework. See you later."

Harm dropped onto the couch and draped an arm across Mac's shoulders, "And that is teenage-speak for 'I'm leaving so you two can make out'."

Mac raised an eyebrow at him and grinned, "Is that so? I think I need to brush up on the lingo."

Harm made a show of buffing his nails on his shirtfront, "No need, I happen to be fluent. I'll be happy to translate."

Mac rested her head on his shoulder, "You're a man of many talents, Mr. Rabb."

"I am," Harm agreed smugly. He turned his head and gave Mac a quick kiss on the temple. Keeping his lips there for a second or two, he pulled back and stared at Mac, "You feel a bit warm. Are you okay?"

Mac rolled her eyes as she gave an exasperated sigh, "I'm fine. Dr. Hawthorne gave me a clean bill of health, remember?"

Harm regarded her seriously, "He still can't explain your collapse."

"I know," Mac took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "but you really didn't expect me to tell him about that shadow-thing, did you? We'd have to hold the wedding in the psych ward."

"Yeah," Harm scrubbed his free hand through his hair, "But I can't help worrying."

"I know that, too." Mac leaned up and gave him a kiss. "Sixty-eight hours, seven minutes and counting, Navy."

Friday,

Dulles Airport

Washington, DC

1340 Local

Don Eppes led his group off the skyway and started down the concourse to the baggage claim area. Once they'd retrieved their bags, a shuttle bus would take them to their hotel. Tomorrow afternoon, several buses would be available to take guests to the ceremony. The same type of transportation had been arranged for the reception. This was the first wedding Don had attended that had done that and he'd thought it was damn thoughtful not to make out-of-town guests try to find their way around DC's maze of streets. He glanced back at his little entourage. Mac had called several months ago to find out who would want to come, making it clear his entire squad was welcome. Their dad, Charlie, Amita, Megan, Larry, Colby and himself had decided to attend the wedding. David, understandably, had begged off, preferring to mind the store in everyone's absence. Don, Alan and Colby would be flying solo for the wedding and reception.

While waiting for their bags, Don found himself scanning the crowd. It was habit these days and he noticed with a small grin that both Colby and Megan were doing the same thing. A moment later he frowned. Something had caught his attention, what was it? Nonchalantly, he turned a little to rescan the area.

"Man, they'll let anybody fly these days."

Don jumped despite himself, whirled around and broke out into a huge grin. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Megan and Colby relax. Don reached out a hand, "Fornell, how the hell are you?" He turned to the rest of the group that was now watching, "Everyone, this is Special Agent Tobias Fornell of the DC office and, apparently, a part-time member of the Welcome Wagon. Fornell, this is my father, Alan," he paused as the two shook hands, "My brother Charlie - ,"

"Dr. Charles Eppes, Dr. Amita Ramanujan and Dr. Larry Fleinhardt, I know," Fornell interrupted while nodding at the three. "The NSA, in a rare moment of camaraderie and inter-service cooperation, let us know that one of their favorite consultants and some of his colleagues would be in town this weekend. We're supposed to keep an eye out," he added dryly, "on the off-chance that some sort of trouble develops at the Rabb-MacKenzie wedding."

"You're kidding," Megan Reeves stared at the older man, unable to decide if he was serious or not.

Fornall turned to her with a slight grin, "Vegas odds right now are 5 to 1." He pointed at her, "Reeves, right? I've seen some of your work. Impressive." He looked over at Don while jerking a thumb at Megan, "How did your rag-tag office rate someone like her?"

Don grinned, rocking back on a heel as he folded his arms, "I keep telling you, Fornell, clean living."

Fornell chuckled, shaking his head, "You staying at the Franklin?"

"Okay, now you're scaring me," Don stared at the agent, "Are you serious? The Bureau's really interested in the wedding?"

Fornell raised his eyebrows, "Have you seen the guest list?"


	7. Chapter 7

One more chapter to the wedding ceremony! :-) Hope everyone's enjoying this - the next two chapters are strictly fluff and as I've said before, it's not really my thing. Thanks to all who took the time to review. It makes my day.

Chapter 7

Friday,

Ethan M's

Washington, DC

1830 Local

Harm and Mac led the wedding party into the banquet room and grinned at the smattering of clapping and friendly catcalls from the guests that had already arrived. Harm glanced down at her and murmured, "Here we go." They moved through the growing crowd, greeting friends and making introductions. The restaurant, Ethan M's, was only a block from the Franklin Hotel where most of the out-of-town guests were staying. Frank and Trish had decided that with the reception being held in the Bacovian Embassy, the rehearsal dinner needed to be more relaxed and informal. Emma had recommended the place. The food was good overall and the pizza was supposedly some of the best in town.

"Tired of all that California sunshine?"

Don Eppes turned around and grinned, "Nah, just wanted to see how the other half lives." He shook hands with Harm and gave Mac a hug.

Mac glanced around, frowning slightly, "No one else came?"

Don rolled his eyes, "They're here somewhere. Some Goth chick recognized Charlie and Amita and dragged them off to meet 'McGee', whoever that is; Colby's hoping to get lucky with a dark-haired woman with an accent; Dad's talking to the Burnetts; and Megan and Larry went off with two little old ladies, Annabel and Sarah, I think." He put his hand on his chest, "I, on the other hand, have been waiting anxiously to tell you that you're marrying the wrong person. I'm the guy you really want." As both JAG officers' eyes widened, he turned to Harm and opened his arms, "Come here, you big lug."

"Oh, I see. I don't hear from you for ages and now I find you playing patty-fingers with some civilian cutie? That's rich," Jack Keeter stood with one hand on his hip, doing his best to look pouty.

Harm's head swiveled between the two men while Mac dissolved into quiet laughter. Finally, he turned to her and smugly raised an eyebrow, "See? I told you I was a catch." Don and Keeter both groaned, shaking their heads. Harm turned back to them, draping an arm across Mac's shoulders, "Sorry guys, the Marines have landed."

"Story of my life," Don sighed philosophically. He turned to Keeter, "Don Eppes."

"Jack Keeter," Keeter shook hands with the agent and then jerked a thumb at Harm, "When were you unlucky enough to meet this guy?"

"A case in California about six months ago. You?" Don glanced over and grinned at the mock-offended look on Harm's face.

Keeter airily waved a hand, "Oh, I've had the misfortune for years now. I still don't know what Mac sees in him." He stepped forward and kissed Mac on the cheek before turning and clapping Don on the shoulder, "Buy me a beer and I'll tell you all sorts of embarrassing Rabb stories."

Don laughed, "That might be worth two." With a nod to Harm and Mac, he and Keeter walked off towards the bar.

Harm scrubbed a hand through his hair as he watched them disappear into the crowd, "Why does that worry me?"

"Because it's Keeter. Face it, Harm, you're toast," Mac grinned as she looked around. She threaded a hand through his elbow, "Come on, I see Alan and your parents."

Harm leaned back, stretching a bit as he glanced around the room. Everyone had eaten and were now clumped in various groups, chatting. He and Mac had made the rounds a couple of times, sitting in on conversations and catching up with the people they'd hadn't seen in a while. They were currently with his parents, Gheorghe and Carol, Gus and Harley Montgomery, Alan and Emma. Chloe and Mattie were sitting with the Dzurick kids. The largest group, surprisingly, contained his grandmother, Annabel Simpson, Charlie and Amita, Larry and Megan, Bud, Tink, Pick, Dr. Mallard, Tim McGee, Abby and Gunny Walters. He couldn't even begin to imagine the discussion that was going on over there. Keeter, Gunny Galindez, Don Eppes, Gibbs, Colby and Ziva were sitting together while Harriet, Jen, Tiner, Maggie, Varese, Sturgis and Robyn rounded out another group.

He touched Mac lightly on the shoulder, "We ought to think about calling it a night. Big day tomorrow."

"That's probably a good idea," Trish commented with a warm smile at the two of them. "It's going to be a long day, too." She watched as Harm gave Mac a hand up and the couple began making the rounds one more time to say good night.

"They're a lovely couple," Alan offered as he watched them stop by Don and the group he was sitting with.

"Yes, they are," Frank agreed amicably. He glanced at Trish and grinned, "And occasionally very dense - it certainly took them long enough to figure it out."

"Well, here's hoping for an uneventful wedding and a very, very long marriage," Emma raised her wineglass and took a sip.

"Hear, hear," the rest of the group raised their glasses as well.

Friday,

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

2305 Local

Mac and Harm hugged Mattie and Chloe good night and watched as the girls let themselves into Mattie and Jen's apartment. Jen would be home a bit later. There was a blues bar not far from Ethan M's where Varese liked to stop in when she was in town. Sturgis was going, obviously, along with a sizable group from the reception. Jen was among them. After watching the door close, Mac grinned up at Harm, "You know those two will probably be up all night, right?"

Smiling back as he opened the door to his apartment, Harm nodded, "Well, we warned them. So long as they don't fall asleep during the ceremony, I guess they'll survive." He gave a slight bow and waved a hand, "After you, Future Wife."

Mac batted her eyelashes demurely as she entered the apartment, "Thank you, Soon-to-be Husband." She jumped a little when his hand lightly swatted her six. Spinning around, she eyed him narrowly, a slow grin spreading across her face, "You'll pay for that, Squid."

"I was hoping," Harm grinned in return. He straightened up to his full height and pointed a finger at the bedroom, "To bed, wench."

"Wench?" Mac raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.

"Sweetcheeks? Honeybuns? Snookums?" Harm smiled devilishly as he advanced upon her. "Sugarpie? Pumpkin? Babycakes?" Mac stood her ground, her expression of disbelief warring with amusement at the barrage of silly pet-names. Before she could think of something suitably retaliatory, Harm had swept her up in his arms and was heading for the bedroom.

He deposited her on the bed but as he started to straighten up, Mac grabbed hold of his shirt front and pulled him back down. "Payback, Navy," she murmured with a feral grin and kissed him soundly.

Saturday,

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

0730 Local

Harm yawned and stretched, his eyes opening when he encountered the empty space on Mac's side of the bed. Raising his head, he sniffed a bit and smiled at the smell of coffee percolating. Letting his head drop back down again, Harm's smile broadened. Today was the day. He laid there for a few more minutes before sighing and sitting up. Raking his fingers through his hair, he yawned again. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Harm stood up and carefully stretched, wincing at the myriad little aches and pains that seemed to accompany turning forty. Slowly, he made his way out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. His eyebrows rose when he realized that Mac was already dressed in warm-ups, "What time did you get up?"

Mac turned quickly, looking surprised, "Hey, morning. What're you doing up?"

"Smelled the coffee." Harm pointed to the coffeemaker, repeating his question, "When did you get up?"

Mac shrugged, "About 43 minutes ago." She poured herself a cup of coffee and pointed at the other coffeemaker, "You ready for a cup?

"Yes, please," Harm sat down at the counter, propping his head on his hand, "Why so early?"

Mac grinned at him as she placed his mug in front of him, "Because it's our wedding day and I've got a ton of things to do."

Harm raised his eyebrows, "A ton? I thought everything was ready to go."

"Harm," Mac rolled her eyes, "I'm meeting with my bridesmaids, your Mom and Emma for breakfast. After that, we get our hair and makeup done, then I'll confirm the transportation schedule with the livery service, go to the church, make sure it's decorated and that Varese's music is there and then get dressed and I've only got eight hours and seventeen minutes to do it." She leaned over the counter and gave him a quick kiss, "See you at the church. Don't be late." She was out the door before he'd managed to say more than 'uh - '.

Harm stared at the closed door for a few moments before rubbing a hand through his hair and turning back to his coffee. All these months where it seemed as if every spare moment was spent thinking about or working on some aspect of the wedding and he still apparently had no grasp of everything that had to be done. Harm snorted, at some point the military hierarchy was going to finally acknowledge the fact that women seemed to have multi-tasking built into their DNA and put them in charge. They'd get a hell of a lot more done.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Harm stared absently off into space, trying not to worry. He'd managed to keep a fairly close eye on Mac for most of the week. Today would be the longest period since her collapse that he'd be out of touch. On the other hand, it didn't sound like she'd be alone either. He could trust his mother and Emma to keep watch until he got to the church. Harm grinned suddenly. This was it. This was the day he married Sarah MacKenzie. He glanced at kitchen clock. Damn, he still had to wait for another eight hours. What to do? He drained the rest of his coffee. First off, he could go for a run. That would eat up some time and work off some of the nervous energy. After that, maybe he'd give Bud a call. Harriet was going to be with Mac for most of the day and Harm knew that the babysitter wouldn't be there until the early afternoon. Perhaps he could head over there and lend a hand with the kids. Satisfied with his plan, Harm got up and rinsed out his coffee mug before putting it in the sink and heading back to the bedroom to get dressed.

Two hours later, Harm let himself back into the apartment. Pulling off the sweat-drenched t-shirt, he headed for the bathroom and a shower. Dropping the soggy shirt into the clothes hamper, he was about to strip out of his shorts when the phone rang. Picking it up, he frowned thoughtfully at the Caller ID, "Ellie? What's up?"

"Oh Harm, I'm glad I caught you. I've found it!" Ellie's rich contralto came over the line. She rattled on, "I know it's your wedding day and I'm sure Sarah's too busy, but do you think you could spare an hour to see it? I think it's perfect and the price is right, too."

Harm glanced at his watch, he still had a good four hours of leeway, "Okay, I can manage it. Can you give me an hour? I just got back from a run and I need to get cleaned up."

"Sure, not a problem," Ellie replied happily. "I think you're going to love it. It's on the north side of Falls Church. Meet me at my office and I'll drive you up there."

"Sounds good, thanks Ellie," Harm hung up and headed for the shower, smiling a little. If this turned out to be the one, Mac was going to be thrilled. Fifty minutes later, he walked into the realty office and headed for Ellie's desk.

She stood up as he approached, picking up a set of keys, "Okay, the owners are out for the day so we can get a good look around. If you're interested, we can meet with them later." Ellie led the way to her SUV. Once they were on the road, she smiled over at him, "Nervous about today?"

He smiled back, "Nah, we've been waiting a long time. Four o'clock can't come soon enough." Harm shifted the subject, "What can you tell me about the house?"

"Well, it's a two-story farmhouse that was originally built about eighty years ago by the owners' great-grandfather. He was a carpenter and apparently, a very good one. It's lovely and very well-built. Four bedrooms and two and a half baths. The floors are the original heart pine and the current owners have been doing some renovating over the last ten years or so. They've replaced the furnace and water heater and upgraded the bathrooms. It still needs some work but the infrastructure is sound. The pipes and wiring are copper, there's no termites or mold. The original land plat shows it sat on about a hundred and forty acres. That's been sold off over the years as the family moved away from farming. Today, there's a little less than an acre around the house along with the original barn and a smaller outbuilding."

Harm's eyebrows rose, "And it's in our price range? The amount of land alone would probably blow our budget. What's the catch?"

Ellie glanced at him, "Well, the owners are getting older and they can't keep up anymore. Despite that, they're anxious that the right family buys the place. They're willing to deal."

Harm looked at her and scowled a little, "The right family?" He didn't like the sound of that but wasn't sure if he was on the right track.

"Not 'right family' in that sense," Ellie reassured him, raising an eyebrow slightly. She hesitated a moment, "The owners are a brother and sister, the last of their family. They've had a few deals fall through already and they're getting a little desperate. They don't want to sell to developers because the place would get torn down. They - uh, they believe their great-grandparents are still there and have been harassing would-be buyers. Now the sister thinks it's because the right family hasn't shown up yet." She hurried on, "It's crazy, I know, but I didn't think you or Sarah would be fazed by the stories. I mean, you two aren't exactly the average couple - and it is a lovely place."

Harm was silent for a few minutes while Ellie shot him several anxious glances. Finally he looked over at her, "Does the house have a reputation for being haunted?" When Ellie nodded slowly, he nodded back, "And that's also one of the reasons the price is right?" She nodded again. Harm rubbed his chin, "Are they friendly ghosts?" At Ellie's surprised look, he shrugged and smiled, "It never hurts to have extra grandparents around."

Ellie stared at him for a moment before returning her eyes to the road and chuckling, "I'm sure we can find out." Twenty-five minutes later, she turned into a small subdivision. Several blocks down, the road ended at a gravel driveway, overshadowed by two large oak trees. There was a white wooden fence that appeared to surround the property. The fence line had been recently mowed but Harm could tell by the size of cuttings that that wasn't a regular occurrence. It did serve to highlight that the fence itself was in need of repair and painting. Well, Ellie had mentioned that the owners were having difficulties keeping up with the property. This would be a lot of work. He was surprised to find himself relishing the idea.

Harm turned his attention back to the driveway, noting that it, too, needed some work. There weren't any serious potholes but it definitely needed another layer of gravel and a bit of leveling. He glanced over at Ellie, "Do they have a tractor?"

Ellie frowned, "I'm not sure. If they do, I suppose it would be in the barn. We could look." She drove around a gentle curve and smiled, "There it is." She pulled to a stop in front of the house and turned off the SUV. Getting out, she walked around to stand next to Harm, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Harm nodded wordlessly. Whatever problems these people had with keeping up, it was evident they took pains to keep everything neat and clean. The house had a wide, covered, wrap-around porch that reminded Harm of the Montgomerys' place in Kentucky. He looked at Ellie and grinned, "Shall we?" Ellie nodded and led the way up the steps to the front door. Producing a key, she unlocked it and pushed it open, gesturing for Harm to go in first. Nodding, he walked into the foyer and stood for a moment looking around. The interior had a warm, homey feel to it. There was also something else and Harm rubbed the back of his neck while he thought about it. Finally, he stepped forward, "Good morning. My name is Harmon Rabb, Jr. I'm getting married today and my bride and I are looking for a home. Would it be alright if I looked around?" He waited for a moment and then looked at Ellie who was staring at him. Harm grinned a trifle sheepishly, "I thought it'd be better to ask. I wouldn't want someone just barging in if I was haunting a place."

Ellie shook her head and chuckled, "Sarah's going to have her hands full with you, isn't she?"

Harm laughed out loud, "Ellie, she already does. Let's look at the house."

An hour later, they were back in the SUV and heading back to DC. Ellie was still chuckling. Harm had stopped on the porch at the end and gravely thanked the unseen occupants for allowing the tour. If the 'ghosts' had any say in the matter, the Rabb family would probably be a shoo-in. She glanced over at Harm, "What do you think? Are you interested?"

He nodded seriously, "I am but I'd like Mac and Mattie to see it, too. And, I think I'd like to have the owners there so we can talk to them while Mac looks the place over. What's the school system like?" He didn't think Mattie would have a problem with moving. She'd already had a ton of upheaval in her life. This would be relatively minor. She knew about the house-hunting and had been all for it, even if it meant changing school districts. For the rest of the trip back to DC, he and Ellie discussed the merits and drawbacks of living in Falls Church. Obviously, the big plus was the fact that Mac was working in Falls Church.

Saturday,

Rock of Ages Baptist Church

Washington DC

1430 Local

Bud pulled into a parking space and looked over at his friend and mentor. Grinning, he asked, "Ready for this?"

Harm took a deep breath, "Oh yeah." The two men got out of the van. Harm grabbed his dress mess, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "Come on, I need to find Mac."

Bud shook his head, smiling as he held up a hand, "I don't think so. It's bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony. You'll never make it past Harriet. She's a stickler for that sort of thing."

Harm stared at the younger man, his frustration evident, "But this isn't about the wedding. It's about finding our house. Does that count?"

"'Fraid so," Bud chuckled at the obstinate look on Harm's face, "No exceptions. You'll have to tell the Colonel after the ceremony. Want to tell me about it?" he added sympathetically.

Harm rolled his eyes as he walked towards the church and then reconsidered. He looked over at Bud, "It's an eighty year-old farmhouse in the northern part of Falls Church. It's in fairly good shape and sits on almost an acre of land."

Bud's eyebrows rose, "Good grief, can you afford that?" His eyes widened a little, "I didn't mean to imply - I mean, I'm not - "

"Bud," Harm interrupted, "When I first heard about it, I was thinking the same thing but it's actually in our price range."

"So what's the catch?" Bud frowned. He suddenly looked alarmed, "It's not on some sort of hazardous waste site, is it?"

"Not that I know of, although it probably wouldn't hurt to check that out," Harm mused thoughtfully before continuing. "According to the owners and neighborhood lore, the place is haunted." He grinned at the look on Bud's face, "Honest - the story is its the guy who originally built the place - and his wife. Apparently they've managed to frighten off several prospective buyers. Like Cinderella and the glass slipper, they're looking for the right family to show up and buy the place."

"You're kidding," Bud stared at Harm before grinning widely. "That's so cool… uh, I mean, if you believe in that sort of thing," he added hurriedly. He eyed Harm cautiously, "You don't believe in that sort of thing, do you, sir?"

Harm chuckled. When Bud got flustered, he fell back on old habits. It hadn't happened in a long time. "Well, you know," he drawled, still smiling, "Sometimes it's better to err on the side of caution." He jogged up the steps to the church, leaving Bud gaping after him. Maybe he could get Harriet to pass a note to Mac.

Trish stepped back, lips pursed, before smiling widely, "You are an absolute vision." She looked over at Emma and the others, "Don't you think so?"

Emma smiled, "Stunning. Harm's going to take one look and forget how to breathe." Harm's grandmother, Sarah Rabb, and Annabel Simpson happily nodded in agreement from their spot on a nearby couch. At the reception, Sarah Rabb had been amazed when Annabel introduced herself and confided that they were first cousins, twice removed. The two had been thick as thieves ever since as they compared memories of various generations of family.

Mac couldn't help blushing a little. Carol's seamstresses had done an outstanding job. The satin bodice with beaded lace fit her like a glove. The scoop neck was edged with a delicate silvery filigree as were the ends of the short sleeves. The skirt flared out at her hips with seven layers of tulle cascading to the floor. It had also been painstakingly hand-decorated with beading. The matching veil reached to the floor in the back. Full length satin gloves would complete the look. It was a beautiful dress. It must have cost a pretty penny back when Trish's mother first wore it, Mac couldn't imagine what something like this would have cost now.

"Take a few steps, dear," Trish asked. "That full skirt is almost like wearing hoops. You have to be careful or it will bounce and you'll look like you're on a trampoline." Mac stifled a grin. Trish had sounded almost like Corinna. Remembering the advice and practice she'd received years ago, Mac glided forward, pivoted neatly and swept back to where she'd started.

Trish stared at her a trifle open-mouthed while Emma chuckled, "I'd say you've got the hang of it."

Trish shook her head, "Have you been practicing behind my back? It looks like you've been doing this all your life."

Mac shrugged a little helplessly, not quite sure what to say. She'd caught a knowing grin on both Annabel's and Sarah Rabb's faces and was feeling somewhat disconcerted. How much had Annabel told Harm's grandmother? She turned back towards the full-length mirror, absently smoothing the fabric on the bodice. Glancing up, Mac inhaled sharply and froze. In the reflection, behind Trish and Emma and standing near Annabel and Sarah was a smiling Avis, arm in arm with Avril. Beside them, was Kate Todd who gave her a grin along with a jaunty thumbs-up. They were gone in the next instant. Mac exhaled slowly, giving herself a moment and then smiled softly. It seemed there would be a few extra guests at the ceremony.

"Sarah? Are you all right?" Trish stepped up beside the brunette, speaking quietly. If she hadn't been keeping an eye on Mac, she might have missed the momentary stiffening of posture.

Startled, Mac turned her head slightly and pasted on a smile, "I'm fine."

Trish eyed her skeptically, "This wasn't - " She stopped, not wanting to say anything out loud.

Mac gave a quick little shake of her head, "No, no, nothing like that. There was a odd glare on the mirror and it surprised me, that's all." She gave a small, depreciating grin, "I guess I'm little jumpy."

"Perfectly understandable," Trish smiled warmly. "Come on, let's show Harriet and the girls your dress."

Mac paced slowly back and forth. She was too anxious to sit but didn't want to incur Harriet's wrath by working herself into a sweat. With the ceremony less than thirty minutes away, she found herself wondering just what was going to go wrong. God knew she and Harm were like lightning rods for the unexpected. She directed quick prayer skyward - just this once could there not be some sort of dire catastrophe? Mac gave her head a small shake as she pivoted at the end of the room. There was also the note from Harm that Harriet had given her. She thought about it again, frowning a little. Ellie believed she'd found their house and Harm had already seen it. He'd written that it was almost perfect. What did that mean? A little too big? A little too small? A bad neighborhood? Too far away? Damn - why hadn't he been more specific?

Harriet sat with Chloe, Mattie and Jen. Trish, Emma, Annabel and Grandma Sarah had already left to take their seats in the church. "I've never seen Mac this nervous," Chloe whispered, watching the Marine Colonel continue to pace.

"Bet she sprints to the altar," Mattie giggled just as quietly.

Jen leaned unobtrusively towards Harriet, "What do you think, earthquake or freak hurricane just before the 'I do's'?"

Harriet rolled her eyes, "All things considered - probably a giant ninja squid from outer space and forty rabid hamsters." She directed a glare at the Petty Officer, "Please tell me there's not an office pool on this." Before Jen could answer, there was a knock at the door. Harriet bounded to her feet, pointing a finger at Mac, "Stay. I'll get it."

Mac stood impatiently while Harriet answered the door. So help her, if it was anything less than a Presidential order interrupting this wedding, someone was going to die. Her stomach clenched as she watched Harriet straighten in surprise. Dammit! Eyebrows lowering, she took one determined step forward and then stopped in shock. Harriet had pulled the door all the way open and there stood her Uncle Matt. Dumfounded, she stood frozen as Matthew O'Hara stepped into the room. He grinned at the look on her face and opened his arms, "Sarah."

"Uncle Matt!" Mac flew into his arms and hugged him fiercely. After a few seconds, she leaned back to stare at him, bewildered, "How? When? No one told me… "

Matt smiled at her, "That's because no one knew if this was going to happen or not. I didn't want you disappointed if everything fell through. Admiral Chegwidden got the ball rolling nearly a year ago. From what I understand, General Cresswell, the Director of NCIS, Congresswoman Latham and Clayton Webb stepped up as well. I'm a free man, Sarah. I've been pardoned by the President." He shook his head, chuckling, "It was almost too late. I only got the word yesterday. I've had a hell of a time getting here." Matt raised an eyebrow, "So, may I walk you down the aisle?"

"You'd better!" Mac hugged him again before turning to introduce him to the rest of the wedding party.


	8. Chapter 8

OK folks, here we go. One wedding coming up. Thank you to all that took the time to review. It's always fun to read your comments.

Chapter 8

Saturday,

Rock of Ages Baptist Church

Washington DC

1530 Local

Harm watched Matthew O'Hara disappear into the room where Mac and the bridesmaids were waiting. He would have loved to been able to see the look on Mac's face when she saw her uncle. He turned back to AJ, extending a hand, "You've just given Mac the best wedding present ever. Thank you." He and Chegwidden would never be on the terms they used to be before Paraguay but that didn't mean Harm couldn't be civil, especially when the Admiral had pulled off this coup.

"It seemed like the thing to do," AJ replied gruffly, shaking Rabb's hand. "And the man is a Medal of Honor winner." He glanced around the church and raised an eyebrow at Harm, "About time, Rabb. I was beginning to give up hope."

Harm rubbed the back of his neck while smiling ruefully, "Well, you know us. If there's a convoluted way to do it, we're all for it." He decided to change the subject, "How's retirement?"

AJ glanced away for a moment, smiling a little, "Not bad. I've visited every major league ballpark in the US. I took a trip to Italy with Francesca and I'm volunteering as an assistant coach for the community college baseball team. I'm enjoying myself." He reached forward and brushed a small piece of lint off the lapel of Harm's mess dress, "So what about you? Which of you has to transfer out?"

"I am. I've decided to retire after my twenty and start up my own firm," Harm shrugged at the expression on AJ's face. "It's only another ten months or so. General Cresswell found a temporary post for me at the Pentagon."

"Are you sure? What did Mac have to say?" AJ folded his arms, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm sure and she argued," Harm grinned. He paused as music was suddenly heard from the nave, his eyes widening, "It's time! Uh - excuse me, I've got to - I need to - "

"Go, Commander," AJ ordered. He watched as Rabb hurried over to where Bud and the rest of the groomsmen were waiting. Shaking his head, AJ turned to join the rest of the guests. He stopped just short of the doorway and slowly pivoted in a circle, all senses alert. After a few seconds, he gave a short nod. So far so good - no runaway princesses, no terrorists, no escaped prisoners, no lions or tigers or bears. He walked in to take his seat with the other guests. It was just possible this wedding would go through.

The big man walked quietly into the back of the church nave, looking over the guests that were already seated. Seeing one particular man sitting by himself near the back, he grinned as he slid into the same pew. "Hello Webb, does Sarah know you're here?"

Clayton Webb turned, raising an eyebrow, "She does, and so does Rabb, but I somehow doubt they know about you. Did they send an invitation to Moscow, Sokol?"

"No, but you think I'd miss this?" Major Sokol chuckled. "I didn't think those two would ever get off the dime."

"CIA, KGB - mind if I join the party?" An older man dropped down next to Sokol, ignoring the Russian's frown. He leaned forward to address Webb, "Special Agent Fornell, FBI. You two aren't planning to disrupt anything, are you? Aren't eyeing any of the guests?"

"Problem, Tobias?" Another older man in Marine dress blues, with iron-gray, short-cropped hair sat down next to Webb.

"I don't think so, Jethro. Do you, gentlemen?" Fornell gave a predatory smile.

"Look, we're just here to watch the wedding," Clayton said, sounding a bit testy. He looked at Gibbs, "Who are you?"

"He's NCIS," Fornell offered, raising an eyebrow as yet another man slid into the pew in front of them, "And this is Don Eppes, also of the FBI."

"Everything okay?" Don asked quietly in return, eyeing the four men. Ever since Fornell had appeared at the airport with the surprising news that the NSA was concerned about Charlie's well-being, Don had been keeping an eye out. No one was grabbing his little brother while he had the watch.

"I'm sure it is," Fornell answered, still watching Webb and Sokol.

They all stared when a large black man joined Don. He nodded to Clay and raised an eyebrow at the rest of them, "Lt. Fine, DCPD. Is there a problem here, Mr. Webb?"

Sokol began to chuckle quietly, "DCPD, KGB, CIA, FBI, NCIS - think we can find a little old lady from the DAR to join us?" He raised his hands, "Can we just declare a truce? All I want is to watch Rabb and MacKenzie finally marry and then I'm out of here."

"Got a bet on?" Webb asked sarcastically.

"Wish I did, any idea what the odds are right now?" Sokol shot back. He stiffened when two more men showed up and nodded cautiously, "Zali. It's been awhile."

"Major Sokol, what's the KGB doing here?" Marius Zali didn't waste any time with courtesies although he kept his voice down.

Sokol sighed. "For the last time, I'm here for the wedding. That's it. I have no ulterior motives about Rabb or Sarah," he glared from Gibbs to Fine, "I'm not interested in Dr. Charle Eppes or his associates," he looked from Fornell to Don, "And I couldn't care less about the royal family of Bacovia," Sokol concluded while staring at Zali. "So, unless you gentlemen want to cause the disruption you're afraid that I might, I would suggest everyone sit down, turn around, shut up and watch the ceremony." He pointed towards the front of the church, "The lady is about to sing."

Varese had gotten up and moved to the side, smiling as the church choir also stood. Although the original plan had been for her to sing solo, Rev. Forrest had asked if she would mind having their choir join her. The group been floored to hear that she would be part of the wedding and had volunteered their time for the opportunity to perform with a singer of her calibre. Varese had had no objections and neither had Harm or Mac when they were asked. Turning to face the guests, Varese nodded to the small band that usually accompanied the choir. The music started and more than one guest grinned as she and the choir launched into Shania Twain's 'You're Still The One'. From there, she moved to Roberta Flack's 'The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face' as the ushers escorted family members in. Once everyone was seated, Varese re-took her seat and the pianist began playing the Pachabel Canon.

Harm and his groomsmen, Keeter, Sturgis, Tiner and Bud as his Best Man, filed in from the side. Then the bridesmaids entered, Chloe first, then Mattie and then Jen. Harriet, as Matron of Honor, came last. Little AJ Roberts was next as the Ringbearer. Dressed in a tux, it was apparent he was taking his job very seriously. He steadfastly ignored the smiles from the guests as he concentrated on walking up the aisle. Finally, it was time. Harm stood waiting and sucked in a breath as Mac appeared on Matthew O'Hara's arm. He always thought she was absolutely gorgeous but now words failed him as he watched her slowly approach. He jumped a little when he felt Bud touch his elbow.

"Breathe, Harm," the younger man whispered with a grin.

Harm nodded absently, his smile growing wider as Mac drew closer. Finally, she was beside him and they turned to face a beaming Chaplain Turner. He looked out over the guests, "Welcome everyone. We are here today to witness the joining of Harmon Rabb, Jr. and Sarah MacKenzie in holy matrimony. I have had the honor of knowing these two fine people for a number of years and I believe I speak for many of their friends and family when I say - it's about time." He paused for a moment through the expected laughter, "Many may think that marriage is a serious business. That it is the merging of two lives into one. I don't agree with that. Marriage is joyous and I don't believe that it means one must surrender one's soul to the other or lose one's self for the sake of matrimony. Marriage is a partnership, an alliance if you will. Together, in harmony with each other, a couple can accomplish much and withstand more; always knowing that the other is there beside them. Each supports the other, providing whatever may be needed, whether it is courage, understanding or comfort. Harm and Sarah have had the unique opportunity to develop that partnership in the course of their professional lives. They have been tested in many ways and always - always, have they returned to each other. That is love in its truest sense."

Chaplain Turner took a moment to smile at Harm and Mac, "This ceremony is the formalization of a union that has been evident to anyone who has had the privilege of knowing this couple. Today, in the eyes of God and the presence of their families and friends, they make the final commitment. A commitment that demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom and into that love which is not possession, but participation."* He looked at Harm and Mac, his smile widening, "Who gives this woman?"

Matthew O'Hara stepped forward, "I do." He leaned in to give Mac a quick kiss, whispering softly, "Me and the United States Marine Corps... hoo-rah." Backing up, he turned and sat down next to Trish and Frank Burnett. Mac and Harm had decided against the traditional bride's side and groom's side. Most of their friends were mutual and, obviously, Mac didn't have much family in the traditional sense. The Chaplain looked out across the congregation, "Harm and Sarah have asked to recite their own vows to each other, or as I believe they referred to it, their closing arguments." He nodded to Harm.

Harm took a breath as he turned to face Mac. Smiling, he took her hand and began, "I promise to give you the best of myself and to ask of you no more than you can give. I promise to accept you the way you are. I fell in love with you for the qualities, abilities, and outlook on life that you have, and won't try to reshape you in a different image. I promise to respect you as a person with your own interests, desires, and needs, and to realize that those are sometimes different, but no less important than my own. I promise to keep myself open to you, to share my innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams. I promise to grow along with you, to be willing to face change as we both change in order to keep our relationship alive and exciting. And finally, I promise to love you in good times and in bad, with all I have to give and all I feel inside in the only way I know how ... completely and forever."

Mac smiled happily, giving his hand a squeeze, "I have finally discovered the meaning of real love. You are my best friend, and I will love and respect you always. From this day forward, I promise you these things: I will laugh with you in times of joy, and comfort you in times of sorrow. I will share in your dreams, and support you as you strive to achieve your goals. I will listen to you with compassion and understanding, and speak to you with encouragement. I will help you when you need it, and step aside when you don't. I will remain faithful to you for better or worse, in times of sickness and health. I know in my heart that you will be my constant friend, my faithful partner, and my one true love."

She finished and they stood smiling at each other until Chaplain Turner quietly cleared his throat. Exchanging sheepish glances, they turned again to face the Chaplain. He smiled at them before glancing towards Bud, "The rings, please?" Bud dutifully handed them over. The Chaplain held them up, "These rings symbolize the pledges Harm and Sarah have made to each other, as well as the never-ending aspect of their love." He handed one to Harm, "Do you, Harmon Rabb, Jr., take this woman, Sarah MacKenzie, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health and to cherish for the rest of your days?"

Harm smiled as Mac slid the long glove off and extended her hand. Placing the ring on her finger, he said softly, "I do."

The Chaplain then handed a ring to Mac, "Do you, Sarah MacKenzie, take this man, Harmon Rabb, Jr., to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health and to cherish for the rest of your days?"

Her eyes bright, Mac slid the ring onto Harm's finger, "I do."

Chaplain Turner smiled, "Then, in the eyes of God, and by the authority vested in me by the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has brought together, let no man put asunder." He tipped his head towards the couple, "You may kiss the bride."

Cupping her face in his hands, Harm leaned in and kissed her softly. Finishing the kiss, they grinned happily at each other. Harm surreptitiously swept his gaze around the church before whispering, "How about that? No disasters, manmade or otherwise."

Mac nodded, glancing around as well. She caught an odd, out-of-place shimmering and smiled, "And only a few extra guests." Harm's eyes widened for a moment before he tilted his head and raised an inquiring eyebrow. Mac nodded happily. They both turned towards the guests as Chaplain Turner proclaimed, "May I now present, for the first time, Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. and his wife, Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie Rabb."

Hand in hand, Harm and Mac laughed and waved as they acknowledged the clapping and cheers while they made their way back down the aisle. The wedding party followed as they set up a receiving line in the foyer. Sokol and Webb were the first to come down the line and both Harm and Mac stared in surprise at the KGB agent. "Mark?" Mac asked, somewhat bewildered.

"I couldn't miss this," Sokol chuckled, giving Mac a kiss on the cheek. He slapped Harm on the shoulder before shaking his hand, "Treat her right, Rabb. You're a lucky man." Without waiting for Harm to answer, he headed out the door and was gone.

"Clay?" Mac turned to the CIA agent next.

Webb shook his head, "Don't ask me, I was just here for the wedding." He gave her a kiss as well and turned to Harm, "About time, Rabb. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Webb," Harm answered automatically, still a bit thrown by the appearance of Sokol. He watched the CIA agent pull out his phone as he walked briskly out the exit. Harm shook his head. It seemed a spy's work was never done. He turned back to continue thanking their guests for coming to the wedding. It took close to thirty minutes for the line to file through and exit the church. Harm turned to Mac and grinned, "Ready?"

She nodded with an answering grin, "Here's hoping no one lops off an ear." They walked to the doorway and stood on the threshold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present to you, Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. and Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie Rabb. Officers - draw swords." Bud commanded from his position at the end of the two rows. General Cresswell, Major Bobby Perez, Lt. Bell, Gunny Walters, Gunny Galindez and Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Gunnery Sergeant, retired; all attired in their dress blues, formed one side of the line. Retired Admiral AJ Chegwidden, Lt. Commander Turner, Lt. Commander Keeter, Lt. Tyler, Lt.j.g. Tiner and Lt. Commander Bud Roberts formed the other side. Metal hissed as sabers were drawn from scabbards and raised to touch tips, the blades glittering in the afternoon sun.

Sharing a kiss as they entered the arch, Harm and Mac walked arm in arm down the length. As they reached the end, Bud lowered his sword and gently swatted Mac on the backside, "Go Navy."

Harm grinned somewhat smugly until he received his own swat. He turned his head to see Gibbs with his sword already back in the air and smiling. The NCIS agent rolled an eye towards Harm, "Semper fi."

Mac chuckled at his expression and the couple paused after exiting the arch. "Officers, return -," Bud ordered, there was a slight pause as the sabers were returned to their scabbards except for the last three or four inches. "Swords," Bud finished and the swords were sheathed in unison. "Dismissed," Bud ordered and the lines broke up as various spouses and dates reclaimed their men.

Trish appeared beside Harm and Mac, "The photographer's waiting inside for pictures." She hurried off to round up more of the wedding party.

Arm in arm, Harm and Mac walked back towards the church. Mac smiled up at him, "Feel any different?"

Harm leaned in and kissed her, "Does ten feet tall count?"

"Only ten feet?" Mac laughed lightly, backing up a little while still holding his hand. "What happened to 'top of the world'?"

Harm pulled her back to him, wrapping an arm around her waist, "That, too." He glanced around and lowered his voice, "We have extra guests?"

Mac nodded, a little surprised that he was bringing it up and glancing around as well, "I saw them in the mirror, standing near your grandmother and Annabel. Avis, Avril and Kate - they smiled and then disappeared." She eyed him curiously, "What's going on?"

Harm rubbed the back of his neck, "How would you feel about a few more?"

"What are you talking about?" Perplexed at the way the conversation was going, Mac stopped to look at him.

"Our house - well, possibly our house, if everyone agrees - it's, well, it's supposed to be haunted," Harm got it out in rush, still glancing around.

Mac's eyebrows rose, "Are you serious?"

"Very," Harm nodded, "It's an eighty year-old farmhouse in northern Falls Church and it's being haunted by the man who built it, along with his wife. According to Ellie, a couple of deals have fallen through already because of them. The owners are the descendants and they think their great-grandparents are waiting for the right couple to buy." He shrugged and grinned, "I figure we could have an inside track - we've got our own ghosts."

Mac shook her head before looking at him ruefully, "Nothing's normal with us, is it?"

"Nah," Harm draped an arm across her shoulders and started them into the church again, "That'd be way too boring."

Saturday,

Bacovian Embassy

Washington, DC

1900 Local

How're you holding up?" Harm leaned in and planted a kiss on Mac's temple. They were waiting their turn to enter the ballroom. They could hear Bud introducing the members of the wedding party amid applause and some good-natured laughter.

Mac smiled up at him, "I'm good. You?"

"Unbelievably happy," Harm grinned, running a hand up and down her arm before kissing her again. Now that they were married, he couldn't stifle the urge to touch her. It was probably just as well he was on leave until their honeymoon and then moving to the Pentagon when they got back or there'd surely be problems with PDAs in the office.

Finally, it was their turn. Walking up to the ballroom, they paused at the threshold and then entered to a small fanfare from the orchestra. Acknowledging the applause, they made their way to the head table. Once they were seated, the guests found their seats as well. Servers appeared, bringing out trays of food. The conversational din rose and fell as everyone ate and chatted. Harm gave Mac a nudge and tilted his head towards the other table on the dais. Protocol officers had been scrambling ever since the Embassy had been offered for the reception. With the royal family attending but not part of the ceremony, there'd been a need to erect a large enough dais to accommodate the wedding party and the royals. The officer in charge had been simply horror-struck at the suggestion that the Dzuricks occupy a table situated below mere citizens. The Dzurick family sat at the second table along with General Cresswell and his wife, retired Admiral Chegwidden and Congresswoman Latham.

Mac smiled before leaning in closer to Harm, keeping her voice down, "It looks like Gheorghe is charming the socks off the ladies. Even Bobbie seems mesmerized."

Harm grinned, "It's a good thing Carol's not the jealous sort."

Ten minutes later, Bud stood up, tapping his champagne glass to get everyone's attention. It took a minute or two for everyone to quiet down. Smiling, he looked around the room, "Thank you. I'm Bud Roberts and as best man, this is the part where I stand up and wish Harm and Sarah a long and happy marriage." He turned to Harm and Mac, "And I do. It's been an honor and privilege to serve with you and my great good fortune to count you both as friends. You helped me win the love of my life and I'll be forever grateful for that." Bud shot a fond look at Harriet before his grin widened, "Life's never dull around you two. I was there when you first met and it's been an adventure ever since. Because of you I've learned so many things - from how to meet adversity with courage and compassion to learning to speak with my jaw wired shut; but, most of all, I've learned... patience. Harriet and I, along with most of your friends, have been waiting years for this. It's about time." Bud lifted his glass, turning back to the guests, "Now, please join me in raising a glass to our happy couple, Harm and Sarah. May the joys you share today be the beginning of a lifetime of great happiness and fulfillment. Congratulations."

As everyone drank to their happiness, Harm leaned back towards Mac. Raising an eyebrow, he murmured, "I'm detecting a theme, Mrs. Rabb."

With a grin, Mac put her elbow on the table and propped her chin, "About time, Mr. Rabb." At his pained look, she laughed and grabbed his hand, nodding towards the orchestra, "Feel like a first dance?"

"And many more," Harm brought her hand to his lips. Rising, he waited while she put her gloves back on and then held her chair as she stood. Offering an arm, Harm led them to the dance floor. Standing in the middle, he took her in his arms as the orchestra played the opening bars. When the soloist began singing Kelly Clarkson's 'A Moment Like This', they began their waltz. The song ended amid applause. Harm grinned down at Mac, "We're a hit."

Mac shook her head, chuckling, "You know, it's just possible the audience is biased in our favor." She gave him a nudge, "Go dance with your Mom. I'll get Uncle Matt."

"Only if you promise to dance with me again," Harm's smile grew wider. "I intend to monopolize you tonight."

"If you insist," Mac reached up and kissed him before giving a cheeky grin. "Just don't let your wife catch us."

Harm waved a hand, "Not to worry, she's the understanding sort."

Mac raised an eyebrow, "Not that understanding. Get a move on, Commander. There's people waiting."

With a lighthearted 'aye-aye, ma'am', Harm went to Trish and escorted her out onto the dance floor while Mac brought out her Uncle Matt. Soon, other couples began moving to the dance floor as the reception got into full swing. By the time Harm and Mac left, it was well after midnight and they were both exhausted. Mac was certain she'd danced with every man there who was capable of drawing a breath. She'd danced with all three of the Eppes men and while none of them were clumsy, Alan was, by far, the best of the three. Ducky Mallard was also an accomplished dancer and Mac was certain that if he'd been twenty years younger, he'd have swept every unattached woman in the room off her feet. The Marines were not to be outdone. She'd danced with General Cresswell, Gunny Walters, Tink and, surprisingly, Jethro Gibbs. Harm had been just as occupied. He'd danced with all the Dzurick women, his grandmother, Annabel Simpson, Mrs. Cresswell, who proved to be a gracious and charming woman, Emma Fine, Amita and Abby Scuito, whose outfit was an eye-opening combination of Goth and elegant evening wear.

The limo pulled up to the lobby entrance of the downtown Hyatt Regency. As soon as it stopped, the doorman was at the curb opening the car door. Harm exited first and turned around to help Mac out. Even though they were delaying their honeymoon for a week so they could attend the Bacovian coronation, Harm had insisted they needed someplace special for their wedding night. Mac hadn't seen the problem with staying at Harm's apartment but didn't bother arguing about it. If this was what Harm wanted, she was happy to oblige. Chloe and Mattie were spending the night at the Franklin in an adjacent room to the Burnetts. Harm's parents would keep an eye on the two girls.

Walking up to the front desk, Harm got the key, smiling a thank you at the desk clerk's congratulations. A few minutes later, they were at the door to their room. Unlocking it, Harm pushed the door open and then grinned as he lifted Mac in his arms, "Ready to cross the threshold, Mrs. Rabb? There's no retreat after this."

"So stop dawdling, Navy," Smiling back, Mac had her arms wrapped around his neck. She let go with one to point into the room, "Full steam ahead, Mr. Rabb."

"Yes, ma'am," Harm carried her in, pushing the door closed with his foot. Their first night as husband and wife was about to begin.


	9. Chapter 9

More fluff… thanks to everyone who reviewed, makes my day. Cutting this short - I'm late for fencing practice. Enjoy.

Chapter 9

Sunday,

The old McGinley house

Northern Falls Church

1430 Local

Ellie Nichols stepped out of her Ford Escape as Harm's SUV pulled in behind her. She smiled as Mac, Harm, Mattie and Matthew O'Hara got out, "Thanks for coming today, I had a wonderful time at your reception last night. It was a lovely wedding."

"Thank you," Mac smiled at Ellie. She gestured towards Uncle Matt, "I'm not sure if you two met last night but this is my uncle, Matthew O'Hara. Uncle Matt, this is Ellie Nichols, a good friend and exceptional realtor."

Matt shook the hand Ellie extended and smiled winningly, "It's a pleasure."

Ellie smiled back for a long moment before blinking and looking at the other three, "Yes, well, shall we meet the owners?" She turned and led the way while Matt fell in alongside her.

Harm grinned down at Mac, wrapping an arm around her waist and draping the other across Mattie's shoulders, "You ladies ready?" Receiving affirmative nods, he followed behind Ellie. Harm stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, "What do you think?"

Mac and Mattie gazed up at the house. Mattie grinned and answered first, "I like it. It looks like my old house in Blacksburg."

Harm tipped his head to the side, "You're right. I hadn't thought about it." He looked down at Mac, "Well?"

"Lovely."

Harm frowned just a little, Mac was still looking up at the house and had sounded somewhat distracted. He leaned towards her and whispered, "You okay?"

Mac gave him a startled look, "What?... Yeah, I'm fine." She smiled and gestured upwards, "Let's go. Uncle Matt and Ellie are waiting." They climbed the steps to find that the owners, Robert McGinley and his sister, Sharon Heidelman, had joined Ellie and Matt on the porch. Ellie made the introductions and the brother and sister ushered everyone inside.

As before, Harm stopped in the foyer and looked around. He glanced down at Mac and asked quietly, "You feel it?"

Mac was still looking around as she nodded slightly, "It feels like... anticipation?"

Harm nodded back, "Yeah." There was a sudden loud bang upstairs that made Mattie and Ellie jump a bit. Uncle Matt frowned while Mac merely looked thoughtful. Harm looked over at the brother and sister who were now eyeing them with gloomy resignation. It was obvious they thought this was another sale about to fall through. Their expressions turned to surprise when Harm asked, "What are your great-grandparents' names?"

Robert McGinley glanced at his sister first before answering, "Phineas and Teresa McGinley - Phin and Tess."

Harm nodded and stepped forward a little, looking up towards the second floor, "Mr. and Mrs. McGinley? This is Harmon Rabb, again. I'd like to introduce my family. This is my wife, Sarah," he couldn't help grinning as he glanced back at her. It sounded good. "My ward, Mattie Grace, and Sarah's uncle, Matthew O'Hara. May we look around again?" It was silent and Harm turned back to Mac with a shrug, "I guess that's a yes."

Mac nodded, smiling. She turned towards Robert and Sharon, "Would you like to show us around?"

Sharon smiled widely, "We'd love to."

It was nearly 5:00 by the time they concluded their visit. There hadn't been any more mysterious noises and as Robert and Sharon relaxed, they began sharing more of the family history of the house. As Harm had hoped, Mac and Mattie both loved the old house. Matt thought it was a good deal as well. He would be living with them for a while. Mac hadn't said anything earlier but Harm had brought it up, knowing it was something she wanted. He'd asked O'Hara if he would mind staying with them until he figured out what he wanted to do. Matt had been hesitant about accepting, not wanting to impose but Harm had been persuasive, pointing out that both Mac and Mattie would benefit from him joining their household. They'd left the house with a handshake deal. Ellie would draw up the papers and they would close just before Harm and Mac left for the coronation and their honeymoon. They dropped Matt off in Georgetown. He was staying at Mac's apartment while she had moved in with Harm.

Mac walked into Harm's place and turned around as he followed her in. Mattie had excused herself as soon as possible, explaining that she wanted to tell Jen about the house. Mac smiled at him, "So was that teen-speak for 'leave the newlyweds alone'?

"Of course." Harm grinned back, wrapping his arms around her, "You're getting the hang of this." After a quick hug, he steered them to the couch, "So, Mrs. Rabb, how does it feel to be an almost homeowner?"

"Exciting, scary," Mac nestled herself into his side, reveling in how natural it felt. "It's a pretty big commitment." She lifted her head to look at him, "And what if I get transferred? What then?"

"We lease to some other military family with the understanding that we'll be coming back eventually," Harm replied cheerfully. "So either way, it's a good investment."

"So long as Phin and Tess agree," Mac reminded him, shaking her head a little.

Harm turned to look at her curiously, "Can you see or hear them?"

Mac shook her head, "No but once in a while it felt like someone was standing nearby." She raised an eyebrow, "Don't tell me you didn't notice as well. I saw you looking over your shoulder now and then."

Harm shrugged, "A couple of times it felt like someone touched my shoulder. I didn't feel threatened in any way. Did you?"

"No," Mac shook her head again leaning it back against Harm's shoulder. "I hope they approve because it really does seem like the perfect house for us." She turned a little so she could see his face, "I know I've said this before but thank you for being so understanding about Uncle Matt."

"It wasn't a hard decision," Harm assured her with a smile, "And it's a win-win for everyone. The place needs work and I certainly won't mind having help. He and Mattie seem to be hitting it off, too."

"He wants to pay us for room and board." Mac frowned a little, "I told him I'd talk to you about it and figure out a fair amount. I don't really want to take his money. He's lost his pension and benefits with the dishonorable discharge. All he has left are his savings."

"And his pride," Harm added, "I can understand him not wanting to freeload."

"He's not freeloading. He's family," Mac protested.

"I know that and you know that but that doesn't change how he feels about it," Harm pointed out. "Why don't we take the sweat equity approach? Not that I can see him loafing around but if he pulls his weight helping get the place in shape and keeps an eye on Mattie if we both happen to be out of town, that would be worth quite a bit."

"That's a good idea." Mac smiled before leaning back against him again and sighing contentedly. A moment later, she sat up once more, "Harm, what about Jen?"

"Yeah," Harm ran a hand over his head, "I thought I'd ask her if she'd like to move into this apartment - at the same rent as the other. Is that okay with you?"

"It's your building," Mac reminded him gently, "You do whatever you think is fair."

"Well, it's ours now," Harm corrected with a grin. It faltered somewhat when he saw Mac frown slightly, "What's wrong?"

Mac turned to look at him, "Do you think she'll want to stay here by herself? This isn't the best neighborhood and you're not going to be here. She might not feel safe." She held up a hand, "And I know she's been by herself before when we've been out on assignment but this would be different. It wouldn't be temporary. She won't have Mattie for company and it probably wouldn't take long for word to get around that she's alone here."

"Jen's a tough gal but I see your point," Harm frowned, too. "We could try renting the other apartment to other military. Let Jen sit in on the interviews and have a say about who gets it. If she wants to stay, that is. You could be right, you know, she might want to find another place altogether."

"Why don't I talk to her on Monday?" Mac suggested. "And if you're not busy, you could stop by and join us for lunch."

"A threesome? I think I can manage that," Harm grinned and held up his hands to fend off Mac's slap. "Ow. Just kidding, Marine."

"You'd better be, Rabb," Mac fixed him with a stern look although he could see she was trying not to smile. She leaned towards him, resting a hand on his chest, "And I think that's just about enough about other people. It's newlywed time."

Harm reached forward to kiss her, "Now that's the best idea I've heard yet."

Monday,

Rashnu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

0935 Local

"Enter." Michael Ezekiel spun his wheelchair away from the window as he heard the door open. Raising his eyebrows in polite inquiry, he folded his hands in his lap, "Well?"

Harper carefully closed the door and stepped forward, "Sir, Team Two located the package down in the sewer system. What do you want to do?"

Ezekiel rubbed his jaw slowly while he thought. Finally, he dropped his hand, "Email the account that the lost item has been found and arrange for a drop."

Harper nodded slowly, "Do you want to open it up and see what's so valuable to Ms. Threetrails?"

"No," Ezekiel shook his head firmly and then smiled, "Let Ms. Threetrails have her secret. We have one of our own." He tilted his head, "Of which… ?"

Harper shrugged a little. "Letiro was right about trying to crash the wedding or reception. There were nearly half a dozen law enforcement agencies represented, not including the Bacovian security force. It would have been impossible to do anything. However, he has managed to place some new surveillance teams." He pulled a PADD out of his inside coat pocket, consulting it as he spoke, "The Rabbs are supposed to fly into Bacovia this Sunday. The coronation and official ball take place on Wednesday with various other celebrations continuing for the next five days." He looked up at Ezekiel, "We have a team on the border, waiting for word. I'll be leaving tomorrow evening to join them. They think they've found a way in and I need to look into it."

"You and I will be leaving tomorrow evening," Ezekiel corrected, smiling at the surprised look that appeared on Harper's face. He waved a hand, "I want to see Rabb's face when he realizes who I am and that retribution is at hand."

Harper shifted uncomfortably, clearly reluctant to say anything, "Sir, is that… wise?" He added hurriedly, "The terrain, it's very rugged."

Ezekiel's eyebrows lowered ominously, "I will be there. Make the arrangements."

Harper nodded slowly, "Yes sir. Sir - ," He hesitated. "What if we brought Rabb and MacKenzie to the nearest village and you met with them there? It would be more convenient for you."

"No." Ezekiel's face darkened in anger. "I don't want either of them near any possible source of help. It's an eye for eye - I nearly died because of Rabb and now I'm crippled. He should suffer the same fate."

Harper's eyebrows rose, "I thought you wanted him dead."

"I do, but that's God's decision." Ezekiel smiled coldly, "I just want to make sure Rabb's someplace where there's no interference with God's will."

"And MacKenzie?" Harper asked, his mind already considering the logistics of complying with Ezekiel's commands.

"Give her to your team as part of their payment. They can do whatever they wish, except free her." Ezekiel stated with a scowl, "Make sure they understand that. Keep her, sell her or kill her - those are the choices." He gestured towards the door, "Have the car brought round, I have my own preparations to make."

Tuesday,

Ellie's Office

Washington, DC

1730 Local

Harm and Mac rose from the table along with Robert McGinley, his sister, Sharon and Ellie Nichols. Ellie was grinning widely at the JAG officers, "Congratulations on your new home." They'd been able to expedite the paperwork because of the financial arrangements Harm had worked out. They were putting up a considerable amount as a down payment thanks to the combination of Mac's savings and Harm's trust fund and Frank and Trish were financing the rest. Harm and Mac had worked out the terms so that Frank received a good return on his investment while they paid less than the going interest rate. Not having to jump through all the hoops for a conventional loan had speeded up the process considerably.

"Thanks," Mac smiled back as Harm shook hands with Robert and Sharon, "Once we're settled, we'll have a house-warming. You're all invited."

Sharon beamed, "Thank you and thank you for being so understanding about Phin and Tess." She looked at her brother triumphantly, "I told you we'd find the right family."

Robert rubbed the back on his neck, smiling a little uncomfortably. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he was still a skeptic about ghosts and hauntings. That something was going on in the old homestead was too obvious to deny but he refused to acknowledge it out loud, preferring to let his sister broadcast her opinion far and wide. It was better that she was considered the slightly crazy one of the family. Robert looked at the younger couple, "I'm glad you've bought the old place. The workmanship is exceptional, especially these days. It would have been a crying shame if some developer had knocked it down to fit in a half-dozen cracker box houses."

"We'll take good care of the place," Harm assured him as he accepted the keys from Ellie. They all said their goodbyes and soon Harm and Mac were sitting in his SUV. He'd dropped her off at JAG HQ this morning and then picked her up to go to the closing so they wouldn't have to juggle two cars. He looked over at her and grinned, "Want to cruise by our new home?"

"Love to," Mac smiled in return as she settled back into the seat. 'Our new home.' It sounded odd and exhilarating at the same time.

A man, sitting at a bus stop across from the realty office, lowered his newspaper slightly as Harm's SUV pulled out of the parking lot, "They just left, heading north... Roger that." Standing up, he folded the newspaper and tucked it under an arm before sauntering down the street.

Thirty minutes later, Harm pulled into the gravel driveway and rolled slowly up to the house. Turning off the engine, he shot a quick smile at Mac before hopping out. He made it around to the passenger side as she opened the door and made a show out of handing her out. Standing in front of the steps and draping an arm across her shoulders, Harm smiled down at Mac, "Now how does it feel?"

"The same but more so - exciting and scary," Mac grinned back up. She slid an arm around his waist and pulled him forward, "Let's go say hi again to Phin and Tess."

They walked up the steps and Harm pulled the keys out of his pocket. Unlocking the door, they stepped inside, stopping in the foyer as before. Harm looked around, "Mr. and Mrs. McGinley? It's the Rabbs again. We've bought the house so it's going to get a bit hectic soon when we start moving in." The lights flickered in the hallway and Harm glanced over at Mac, "What do you think? Agreement, annoyance or electrical short?"

"No idea." she shrugged a little before looking up at him with a bit of a smile, "I guess we'll have to learn their language just like the teen-speak."

"Guess so," Harm nodded. "Want to look around a bit?" Robert and Sharon were leaving a number of the larger pieces of furniture that had been with the house since the original occupants. They were moving to Florida to get away from the Virginia winters and the condo they'd bought was already furnished. Harm had tried pointing out that they were valuable antiques and the siblings could make a decent amount of money selling them but neither would do it. Those pieces belonged to Phin and Tess, Sharon had explained. It wouldn't be right to sell them. Against that sort of logic, Harm didn't have an argument.

Hand in hand, they walked down the hallway towards the kitchen at the back of the house. Standing in the entryway, Mac sighed happily, leaning into Harm's side, "I love this kitchen."

Harm grinned as he nodded, raising an eyebrow at her, "Does this mean you're going to learn to cook?"

Mac straightened up, slapping at his arm in mock indignation, "I can cook. I merely choose to let you do most of it. I know how you enjoy it."

Harm rolled his eyes, "So you're saying you've actually been sacrificing by letting me do all the cooking because it makes me happy?"

"Of course," Mac replied smugly. She took on an innocently thoughtful expression, "You know, Mattie's mentioned how much you like cleaning, too… "

Wednesday,

The Rabb-McGinley place

Falls Church, VA

1035 Local

"Take a break?" Harm wiped the sweat from his forehead as he eyed O'Hara. He knew he was in decent shape but he was having trouble keeping up with ex-Marine. Apparently he needed to add more weight-training to his exercise regimen.

Matt shrugged a little as he nodded, "Sure." He'd done his best to keep fit in Leavenworth but he found himself getting winded sooner than he'd like. Pride had kept him stride for stride with his niece's new husband but it was obvious that more running was in order. He needed to pull his weight and age was no excuse.

Harm pulled a couple of waters out of a small cooler on the porch and tossed one to Matt. Sitting down on the steps together, the two men sipped their drinks in silence, looking out at the property.

"You know," Harm gestured with his water bottle, "with all the trees blocking the view, you could almost pretend that subdivision doesn't exist."

Matt nodded absently, "Too much cover, someone would be right on top of you before you knew it." He ducked his head a bit sheepishly, "Sorry - old habits. The privacy's nice."

"No," Harm regarded Matt thoughtfully, "I think you have a point." He looked out again, "We could thin it out a little closer to the house and maybe plant a few more closer to the fence line. I was thinking about a security system, too." They'd told Matt about the bugs in both of their apartments. Nothing else had happened and Harm wasn't really sure what to make of it.

"Get a dog or two," Matt suggested, taking another long drink. "Good company, better security." He waved a hand, "You've already got a fence around the property, wouldn't take much to dog-proof it."

Harm frowned a little, "Dogs? You mean guard dogs like Dobermans or Rottweilers? I think that'd worry me more than potential prowlers."

Matt turned to look at him, "Spoken like a man who hasn't had dogs. All those stories in the papers are more about people who misuse, abuse or are really too stupid to be allowed to have a dog. You can make anything dangerous. A good dog is worth his weight in gold."

Harm grinned, "Spoken like a man who's had dogs. So, in your expert opinion - and providing Mac and Mattie agree, what would be the ideal dog?"

"I've always liked Rottweilers myself," Matt smiled. "Despite what you read, a lot of them are big clowns. They're people-oriented, too. Rotties are happiest when they're with their family. A Rottie chained outside is an awful thing."

"And will these big, lovable clowns do more than eat, sleep and follow us around?" Harm asked, "You make them sound like a bunch of creampuffs."

"They'll guard their family, don't worry about that," Matt replied. He took another swig of his water, "It's all about responsible breeders, training, socializing and some common sense. The mistake most people make is assuming that a dog thinks like they do. They don't. Contrary to some of these psuedo-trainers, they're not constantly plotting to take over. Most of them are perfectly fine with letting someone else be in charge. All you have to do is establish yourself as the Alpha male."

Harm raised an eyebrow, "Are you suggesting I pee everywhere? I'd need the dog to protect me from Mac."

"That's not quite what I meant," Matt laughed and clapped Harm on the shoulder. He drained the rest of the water, "And we're getting ahead of ourselves." He gestured to the rental truck, "We still have unpacking to finish."

"Yeah," Harm sighed, finishing his water as well. "Let's get to it."

Wednesday,

The old McGinley place

Falls Church, VA

1755 Local

Mac drove down the driveway and pulled in behind Harm's SUV. The rental truck was gone so she assumed Harm and Uncle Matt had gotten everything moved. Turning off the car, she climbed out and took a moment to look around. It still didn't seem quite real.

"Hey, you're home!" Mattie came out on the porch and bounded down the steps.

Mac grinned, giving the teenager a hug, "Yup." She pointed towards the passenger side, "And I've brought dinner. Give me a hand?"

"Great! I'm starved. Harm says we'll need to do some grocery shopping tonight. He and Uncle Matt just got back a little while ago from dropping off the moving truck. I love my room but I've still got a ton of unpacking to do. What do you think about yellow? For the walls, I mean. Uncle Matt thinks we should get a couple of dogs but Harm says we'd need to dog-proof the fence first. Hey, aren't you coming?" Mattie stopped and looked at Mac, her hands full of the bags from Uncle Ho's House of Noodles.

Mac blinked at the sudden cessation of words she'd just been bombarded with, "Yeah, just a sec, I need to grab my briefcase." Suiting action to words, she pulled her briefcase from behind the front seat and followed Mattie up the steps. They were almost to the front door when Mattie's last sentence registered, "Wait, dogs?"

"You know, for security," Mattie answered blithely, as she waited for Mac to open the door for her.

"Security," Mac repeated, still at a loss.

"I think it'd be kinda cool. I love dogs. Hi Grandpa Phin, Grandma Tess!" Mattie called as she headed down the hallway to the kitchen. She grinned over her shoulder at Mac, "Mr. and Mrs. McGinley sounds way too formal and Harm did say to think of them as extra grandparents. Do you think we could get a cat, too?"

"Cat?" Mac echoed as she followed Mattie into the kitchen, still feeling off-balance. Mattie was generally very mature for her age but every now and then, the teenager would come out and a word tornado would ensue. This was the first time Mac had been caught in one.

"Hey, you're home." Harm pulled his head out from a cabinet and walked over to give Mac a kiss. He frowned a moment later, "You want a cat?"

"I do," Mattie corrected as she started to put all the bags down on the table. Harm moved to help her and Mattie leaned towards him, whispering softly, "Is Mac okay? She's keeps repeating stuff I've said."

"She's probably still trying to get used to this being home," Harm reassured her as he glanced towards Mac. "Hey, would you mind telling Matthew the food's here? I think he's out near the old barn." He waited until Mattie had breezed out the kitchen door before turning to Mac, "Are you okay?"

Mac smiled as she glanced around the kitchen, "I'm good." She caught him raising an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, "Really, I'm fine. Mattie was jumping from subject to subject like a pinball machine and I had a hard time keeping up. What's this about dogs and cats?"

"Oh, that - it was nothing. Matt and I were taking a break and I mentioned getting a security system and he countered with Rottweilers. I don't know how I feel about it but all Mattie heard was 'dog' and she was off to the races. I hadn't heard anything about cats until just now." Harm frowned a little, stepping in closer, "Mac?" She was staring at one of the kitchen chairs.

"What?" She looked up at him, startled when he stepped into her line of vision.

Harm glanced over his shoulder at the chair before looking back at Mac. He lowered his voice, "Are you seeing Phin or Tess in that chair?"

Somewhat bemused, Mac shook her head, "It was a cat. A black one." Seeing the sudden alarm on Harm's face, she shook her head again, "Don't go getting superstitious on me. There's nothing bad about black cats." She tilted her head, "But, you know, he looked familiar."

Harm groaned, turning back towards the food, "Oh man, all that for a pun? That was awful."

Mac gave him an irritated look, "I wasn't - " she stopped as she considered what she'd said and then grinned sheepishly. "I guess it was a pun at that, but that wasn't what I meant. I know that cat." She paused for a moment, clearly in thought before snapping her fingers, "That's it. Harm, that was Jolly Roger, Avis' cat."

"Are you kidding me? Now we've got ghost cats? What's next? Ghost mice?" Harm pulled out containers and arranged them on the table. He pointed towards the cabinet next to the sink, "The plates are in there." As Mac retrieved plates, Harm went to the refrigerator and pulled out bottles of water, "We need to get to a grocery store."

Mac nodded, "After dinner." She looked towards the back door, frowning a little, "What's keeping those two?"

Harm straightened up, suddenly looking tense, "You don't think… ?"

"I don't know," Mac was looking equally worried.

Harm started out of the kitchen, "Come on. The lockboxes with our sidearms are upstairs in the bedroom." They were at the entryway when the sound of the backdoor opening had them both spinning around.

Mattie bounded into the kitchen and stopped, eyeing the two of them. The smile she'd been wearing turned quickly to a worried frown, "What's wrong?" Her eyebrows rose a moment later, "I didn't - you weren't - ewwww, can't you guys wait 'til tonight?"

Harm and Mac exchanged sheepish looks as they moved back into the kitchen. Harm waved a hand towards the door, "Where have you been? Couldn't you find Matt?"

Mattie grinned widely again, "I found him. It's what he found that took some time." She turned towards the backdoor as it began to open again and hurried over to hold it for Uncle Matt. He was carrying a cardboard box and looking pleased with himself.

Harm and Mac exchanged looks again as Matt put the box on a chair. Mac regarded her uncle curiously, "What did you find?"

Matt and Mattie grinned at each other. They both reached into the box and came out holding a kitten.


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you to all who reviewed. For those celebrate the holiday, hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving (and to those who shop Black Friday, you're braver than I am - good luck!).

Chapter 10

Wednesday,

The old McGinley place

Falls Church, VA

1835 Local

"Ohhhh, they're so cute," Mac immediately stepped forward to rub a finger under a little furry chin. The sound of purring filled the kitchen and Mac shared a smile with Mattie. The kitten Mattie was holding was a black and white tuxedo with a white chest and chin and four white paws. Matt's kitten was completely black except for a white chin. Both were fluffy indicating that they'd be long-haired. Mac moved to pet Matt's kitten, too. "They're adorable. Are they male or female?"

Matt lifted his kitten, "This one's a male, the black and white is female. They're hungry - that's how I found them. Something must have happened to the mother."

"Poor things," Mac frowned, glancing around the kitchen, "We don't have anything to feed them." She caught Harm's gaze. He was still standing where he'd been when Mattie first walked in. Mac raised an eyebrow, "What?"

Harm folded his arms, "We're keeping them?"

Mac looked at him for a moment. Harm sounded more exasperated than truly annoyed. She decided he was protesting for protesting's sake, "They were born here. I think that makes them natives. Of course we're keeping them." Turning back to a grinning Matthew and Mattie, she cast a speculative eye on their dinner, "There's chicken in there. We could rinse off the sauce and whatnot and mince it for them. Hopefully, that'll hold them until we can get to the store."

"I'll do it," Mattie declared. Stepping past Mac, she deposited the kitten in a startled Harm's hands, "Talk to Purrl Bailey. She likes having her chin rubbed."

"Pearl Bailey?" Harm asked, staring at the kitten who staring intently back. She was small enough to fit in one of his hands.

"Purrl, P-U-R-R-L Bailey," Mattie shrugged, pointing at the male kitten Mac was now holding, "She purrs a lot and that's Bill Bailey, so - Purrl. Don't drop her."

"I'm not going - ow, ow, ow!" Harm started to retort before breaking off to clutch at the kitten. Purrl had apparently felt Harm wasn't paying enough attention to her and decided to sit on his shoulder. Unfortunately, she chose to do it by climbing and Harm was discovering just how needle-sharp her little claws were.

Mac grinned at him, "A little thin-skinned there, Navy?"

Harm raised an eyebrow, now holding the kitten securely in his hands, "Are you kidding? Those claws could pierce armor plate."

Chuckling, Mac shook her head and looked over at Mattie, "How're we doing over there?"

Mattie glanced over her shoulder, "Almost. I need a couple of plates. Oh, and a bowl for water. They're probably thirsty, too."

"I'll get them," Matt volunteered, walking to a cabinet. In a few minutes, the four humans were watching two kittens chow down. Matt pulled a pad and pencil out of his hip pocket. "We'll need kitten food, food and water bowls, litter boxes and litter, a couple of brushes and a few toys." He looked over at Mattie, "Maybe you could get online later and find local vets in the area. They'll need to be checked out and get started on their shots." Mattie smiled and nodded, still watching the kittens.

"Does anyone care that our dinner is getting cold?" Harm asked plaintively after a few minutes.

Mac patted his arm sympathetically, "In a minute, that's what microwaves are for." She frowned, "Where are the towels? They'll need something to sleep on."

Harm folded his arms again, "And just where are they going to sleep?"

"My room," Mattie piped up. "I'll close the door so they don't roam at night - at least, not until they get older. They need to get used to people being around all the time."

It was nearly 2300 by the time Harm and Mac finally headed for bed, both exhausted. Mac finished her nighttime preparations first and propped herself against the headboard while she waited for Harm. Sitting quietly, she listened to the still unfamiliar sounds of the house settling for the night. Normally a light sleeper, she wondered how hard it was going to be to sleep tonight. There was also the unspoken worry that their nebulous landlords would finally object to the full-out invasion of their home and make their presence known in some unpleasant way. Mac smiled as Harm walked out of their bathroom and sat down on his side of the bed. She reached over and ran a hand down his back. "Tired?" she asked sympathetically.

Harm nodded as he turned to slide under the covers. "And sore," he sighed as he slowly lowered himself down. "Moving furniture showed me a whole new set muscles I didn't know I had."

Mac slid herself down, turning on her side and propping her head on her hand. She put her other hand on his chest, smiling as one of his hands came up to grasp hers, "Poor baby." She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, "Go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am," Harm murmured, his eyes already closing. Mac regarded him for a few more moments before snuggling in next to him, draping an arm across his chest. It was only a matter of minutes before they were fast asleep.

In the pre-dawn darkness, Mac felt Harm shift and sit up. Sleepily, she consulted her internal clock and buried her face in the pillow with a moan. Was there anything worse than waking up ten minutes before the alarm? After a moment, she pulled her head up. "Harm?" she whispered. When all she got was a noncommittal grunt, Mac levered herself up a bit more, "Harm? What's wrong?"

Harm yawned hugely, running a hand over his head, "You told me it was time to get up."

Mac blinked, waking up a bit more, "What? I didn't - you must have been dreaming."

"I could have sworn - what time is it?" Harm yawned again.

Mac sighed, flopping down on the bed, "The alarm goes off in seven minutes."

"Mac."

The tone of his voice pulled Mac back from the edge of sleep again. Her head came up as she squinted at him, "What?"

He pointed to the foot of the bed, "That. What is that?"

Confused, Mac twisted around so she could see what he was pointing at. A moment later she smiled, "Now how they'd get out?" Purrl and Bill Bailey were curled up together at the foot of the bed. She sat up and reached down to pet the kittens, eliciting stereo purrs. She grinned over at Harm, "I think they like you."

"How do you figure?" Harm asked somewhat sourly.

"They're on your side of the bed," Mac pointed out. She tilted her head at him, "Are you really upset about keeping them?"

Harm sighed a little, "No, I guess not. I don't know. I mean we literally just moved in, we're leaving for Bacovia on Sunday and now we have two cats. It just feels like we're rushing things."

Mac shrugged, "Technically, they were here first. I think it was meant to be and it does give Mattie something to focus on while we're gone."

"There's that," Harm watched Purrl climb to her feet and stretch before circling in the other direction and collapsing again. Shaking his head, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. No way was he going to be envious of a cat. He looked over his shoulder at Mac, "You want the shower first? I can get breakfast started."

Mac smiled at him, raising an eyebrow, "Well, we are a few minutes early. Feel like saving water?"

Both Harm's eyebrows went up before he grinned, "Hey, I'm all for the environment."

Forty-five minutes later, Mac was putting on the final touches of make-up when she heard a tapping on the bedroom door. Stepping out of the bathroom as Harm opened the door, she smiled hearing Mattie's voice. "Good morning," she called. Moving to where she could see Mattie, Mac frowned a little as Harm asked, "What's wrong?"

Mattie was looking uncharacteristically upset, "They're gone. I've searched the whole house. I don't know how they got out. I shut the door last night, I know I did but it was open this morning and I can't find them."

Harm opened the door more fully and jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "You mean them?"

Mattie rushed into the room, stopping in front of the kittens, "There you are! What are you doing here?" She whirled back around, looking from Harm to Mac, "I'm really, really sorry."

Harm held up a hand, "Mattie, it's okay."

Mac nodded as well, "They were fine. We didn't even know they were there until we woke up. Don't worry about it." She moved to the dresser and picked up her briefcase from beside it. Turning to walk out of the room, she stopped and gave Harm a kiss and a small wink, "I'll pick up some breakfast on the way to work. It's getting a little late."

Harm grinned a little sheepishly, "Sorry about that."

Mac smiled saucily, "I'm not. See you tonight." She gave Mattie a one-armed hug, "Have a good day." Harm would take the teenager to her new school today to register her and meet with teachers and counselors. Heading out of the bedroom, she walked down the hallway to the stairs. Halfway down, she paused a little. Glancing around, she finally said, "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. McGinley." Continuing down, she stopped in the kitchen to find Uncle Matt sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. Leaning down, she draped an arm across his shoulders and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Morning, Uncle Matt. Sleep well?"

"Like a log," Matt grinned up at her and then raised an eyebrow, "You running a bit late?"

Mac couldn't help blushing a little, "Nine minutes. Unless traffic's worse than usual, I should still be on time."

Matt nodded, still grinning at his niece. He pointed with his mug, "There's a travel mug of Marine-grade coffee and two bagels with cream cheese in the bag on the counter. You shouldn't skip breakfast entirely, you know."

Smiling, Mac leaned down and gave him another kiss, "Thank you!" Grabbing the mug and bag, she breezed out of the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "This is why you're my favorite uncle. See you tonight."

"I'm your only uncle," Matt called back with a grin, "Drive safely."

Thursday,

The Rabb/McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

1940 Local

Mac pulled in once again behind Harm's SUV and sat for a moment. Today had been one for the books. It had started almost as a carbon copy of yesterday with Harm once again waking up before the alarm and insisting she'd told him to get up. The kittens were sleeping on the foot of the bed again even though Mattie had shut her door and Harm had shut theirs. There hadn't been any pleasant interlude in the shower. She'd had court this morning and needed to leave on time. Then her case had blown up on her when her client admitted he'd been responsible for starting a brawl at a local bar. She'd been going over his testimony one last time when he'd let it slip. Then he'd complicated matters by refusing to plea bargain and all but declaring that he planned to lie in court. He had no intention of paying for his crime. Since the case hinged on conflicting stories, his testimony had been crucial. Mac had no choice but to keep him off the stand. It cost her the case and broke her streak against Vukovic. It had also earned her her client's ire and he'd been foolish enough to lose his temper completely when the judge found him guilty.

Security had gotten to him quickly but not before Mac had been forced to defend herself. To his credit, Vukovic had leaped into the fray. Unfortunately, his action had knocked all three of them to the floor and Mac had been unlucky enough to have caught part of the table on the way down. She'd been bruised but nothing had broken. Mac had initially refused a trip to the hospital but Cresswell had overridden her. It took two hours and thirty-seven minutes for the ER to confirm that she had some rather spectacular bruising and suggest that she take it easy for a day or so. Exasperated by the whole incident, she'd returned to JAG and spent the rest of the day playing catch-up.

Mac had been over an hour late getting out and when she'd made it to her car, she discovered the rear tire was flat. Changing it while in her Class A uniform (not to mention how much she'd stiffened up from the morning fracas) wasn't something Mac really wanted to do. She called AAA. They promised to be out within the half-hour. Seventy-four minutes later, a tow truck pulled onto the lot. It was another twenty-three minutes before they finished with everything. The drive home took twice as long as the previous day as the Virginia DOT now seemed intent on tearing up the roads she wanted to travel and she was unfamiliar with alternate routes.

"Mac? Everything okay?"

Mac turned her head to find Harm crouched by the side of the car. She mustered up a wan smile, "Fine now. It's been one of those days."

Harm smiled as he opened her door, "So you said when you called earlier. Are you hungry? I put dinner away for you."

"Starving, I missed lunch." Mac tried not to wince as she swung her legs out of the 'Vette, hoping Harm wouldn't notice. It wasn't that she wanted to hide anything from him, she just didn't want to have to deal with his inevitable reaction before she even made it into the house.

It was a forlorn hope. Harm was scowling as he eyed her in concern, "What's wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?"

"Harm," Mac cut him off with a glare and then modified it to an apologetic look, "I'm sorry. Look, can we discuss this over dinner? I'm hungry, tired and sore and I'd like to get out of the car."

Looking a bit chagrined, Harm held out his hands by way of apology, "Need some help?" His worry increased when she nodded silently and stretched out a hand. A minute later, she was leaning wearily against the 'Vette while he reached in to retrieve her briefcase. Straightening up, he tucked a hand under her elbow and they walked to the house. Halfway up the steps, Matt and Mattie appeared. Mattie grabbed Mac's briefcase while Matt ranged himself on Mac's other side. When they gained the porch, Mattie opened the front door for them. Stopping in the foyer, Harm looked down at Mac, "Do you want to eat first or get changed?"

Mac eyed the stairs and shook her head, "Eat first, I think." She wasn't looking forward to climbing those steps.

"I'll start heating it up," Mattie offered, hurrying down the hallway. The adults followed a little more slowly, Harm and Matt exchanging a worried look over Mac's head. She had sounded exhausted.

Twenty minutes later, Mac put down her spoon and leaned carefully back with a sigh. She gave Harm a smile, "That soup really hit the spot, thanks."

"Glad you liked it," Harm slid a bottle of ibuprofen towards her, "Now take these and tell us what happened."

Mac dutifully washed down the pills and looked around the table. Harm, Matt and Mattie were watching her with varying degrees of intensity although Mattie also had Bill Bailey in her lap and was petting him. Mac shook her head slightly, "It started with catching my client in a lie and went from there. I wouldn't let him perjure himself, we lost the case and he lost his temper."

Harm scowled, "Vukovic wouldn't let you work out a plea?"

Mac shook her head, "My client wouldn't. He really thought I'd let him get on the stand and lie." She jumped a little when Purrl Bailey appeared in her lap and then relaxed, automatically giving the kitten a neck rub.

"Where was security?" Matt was scowling as well. It was obvious from the way Mac was holding herself that her client had done more than lose his temper.

"They got there pretty quickly," Mac defended her fellow Marines. "The problem was that Vukovic got there first." She paused for a moment, still petting the kitten. Purrl was living up to her name, purring loudly enough for everyone to hear. She looked up and saw the expression on Harm's face, "He was trying to help, really, but when he tackled my client, it took all three of us down. I caught part of the table on my way to the floor. Nothing broke," she added quickly, "but I've got some pretty impressive bruises." Lapsing into silence, Mac absently began scratching under Purrl's chin, listening to the purring.

"I think it's time for bed."

Mac looked up at the sound of Harm's voice and nodded slowly, "That sounds like a plan." She turned her gaze to Matt and Mattie and offered an apologetic smile, "Sorry, I'm not very good company right now. I didn't even ask how your days went."

Mattie glanced over at Matt and shrugged, "That's okay. My day was a lot better than yours. I'll tell you about it tomorrow." She stood up and walked around the table to give Mac a quick kiss on the side of the head, "Go to bed. I hope you feel better tomorrow." She gestured towards Purrl, "Want me to take her?"

"I've got her," Harm said, surprising everyone as he lifted the kitten from Mac's hands. He looked around somewhat defensively, "What? She's going to wind up on our bed anyway." He tucked Purrl into the crook of his arm and gave Mac a hand up with the other one, "Come on, Marine." An hour later, he was back down in the living room.

Matt looked up from the book he was reading, "Is she asleep?"

Harm settled down on the couch next to Mattie, "Her and the cat. Those bruises are pretty nasty. I think she's going to be feeling worse tomorrow."

"I don't suppose she'd consider taking a day of sick leave, would she?" Matt sighed, knowing how his niece was.

"No," Harm shook his head, "Her caseload's not that heavy but with the honeymoon coming up, she's trying to get everything wrapped up as much as possible. I'll call Bud tomorrow and see if he can keep an eye on her." The TV caught his attention and he stared at it for a moment before looking at Mattie, "What in the world are you watching?" Mattie rolled her eyes.

Mac looked out across the landscape and smiled. She was back in the Shenandoah Valley. Turning, she started walking down the slope towards Avis' farmhouse. It didn't really surprise her when she found Avis walking beside her after a few steps. Mac smiled, "Thanks for coming to the wedding. I've missed you."

Avis nodded, smiling back, "I'm always here if you need me, you know."

"But I can only see or talk to you in dreams now - makes it a little hard at times," Mac paused to look at her, "You know about these visions?"

"Yes," Avis waited for Mac to begin walking again. She smiled slightly, "Your Harm had a unique way of phrasing it - a psychic early warning system? Quite apt, really."

Mac frowned, "So you're not sending these?"

Avis shook her head, "No, not I, although I have been watching."

"So last month - that thing at my apartment, were you - ?"

"Of course," Avis continued to glide serenely along although her expression was serious, "You took a huge risk confronting it like that. I'm sorry you got caught in the fallout. I'm afraid I didn't have many options and there was very little leeway."

Mac's eyes widened slightly, "Then the white flash of light, that was you?"

"Yes," Avis' reply was succinct. They walked along in silence for several minutes while Mac reviewed what she knew.

"What was that thing?" Mac finally asked.

Avis sighed, "Many things - none of them good, but a force of evil is probably the simplest explanation. If it's any consolation, it doesn't like you or Harm very much."

"Doesn't like… it's sentient? How is that even possible?" Mac stared at Avis in disbelief. The blonde turned her head, silently raising an eyebrow. Mac flushed, catching the corollary. Avis could easily be described as a force for good and she was definitely sentient, "Sorry." The women continued walking for a little while before Mac stopped dead as another thought occurred, putting a hand on Avis' arm, "Wait a minute, are you saying that thing is after Harm, too? Is that what these visions have been about?"

Avis spread her hands, "Sarah, I can't say." At Mac's incredulous look, she frowned a little before gesturing towards a nearby tree, "You're asking about future events and while these visions are a warning, there's no telling how it will actually play out. It's like the twigs on that tree - every branching off represents a different choice - turn right and this happens, turn left and that happens, stand still and something else happens. An act as innocuous as bending down to pick up a penny can have vast consequences. Those few seconds delay keep you from crossing the street at the same time a delivery vehicle loses control and careens through the intersection. Do you see the problem?"

Reluctantly, Mac nodded, "But if they're useless, then why am I having visions at all?"

"I didn't say they were useless," Avis countered. "They are legitimate warnings. Events have occurred that have shifted the balance. Evil is always looking for openings or weakness and it senses an opportunity. You and Harm are prime targets and have been for many years."

"That's not exactly comforting," Mac grumbled, "How do we fight something like that?"

"By continuing to do what you do," Avis smiled reassuringly, "And remembering that light will triumph against the dark. You won't be alone." She shaded her eyes, looking to the house, "We have guests."

An older couple was standing on the porch, waiting for them. Approaching the steps, Mac let Avis lead the way. As the blonde climbed the stairs, the man doffed his hat, "Good day, Miz Simpson, and thank you for helping us with this."

"My pleasure," Avis inclined her head in acknowledgment. She turned to Mac, "Sarah, I'd like you to meet Phineas and Teresa McGinley." She looked at the McGinleys, "Mr. and Mrs. McGinley, Sarah MacKenzie Rabb." Avis moved to the front door, "Why don't you get acquainted while I fix some lemonade." As she opened the door, Jolly Roger came streaking out, closely followed by a small black and white blur.

Mac's eyes widened, "Purrl Bailey? What's she doing here?"

"Following you, I'd say," Phin grunted, watching the two cats play-fight along the porch. He looked up at Mac, "You need to get yourself some dogs, too. Real dogs, not them little yappy things."

"Yes, sir," Mac said faintly. Even for a dream, this seemed surreal.

"Why don't we sit down?" Tess gestured towards the rocking chairs. She took a seat and waited for her husband and Mac to do the same. Once they were settled, Tess smiled at Mac, "It's nice to see our old home so lively again. It was a happy place when we lived there. You are planning on more children, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, Harm and I are hoping to become foster parents," Mac hesitated a little, "Um, I can't -, that is - "

"No need to explain, dear," Tess interrupted kindly. "We've taken in orphans before and loved them like family." She looked at her husband fondly, "Remember Billy?"

Phin nodded, "Good boy, good man." He looked at Mac, "He lost his father in the Great War and the rest of his family to the Spanish flu. We took him in when he was six."

"He enlisted in the Navy after Pearl Harbor," Tess continued quietly, "We lost him when his ship was sunk by a Japanese sub."

"I'm so sorry," Mac offered sympathetically.

"Don't be, it was his time," Phin replied, glancing away for a moment. "He's with his family again." He looked back at Mac, "You're military, you and your husband understand what it's like." When she nodded, he nodded back, looking more serious, "Tessie and I have been minding the old homestead for a long time now."

"We want you there," Tess interrupted, glancing at Phin, "We want you to know that."

Mac frowned a little, something was off, "But - ?" Phin scratched behind his ear, looking uncomfortable.

"But there are forces gathering," Avis stepped out onto the porch carrying a tray of lemonade. She set it down on the small table between the rockers and handed out glasses of the cool liquid. "As I've said, events have transpired that they believe have tipped the balance in their favor. They're watching carefully, hoping to exploit any opening." Avis smiled at the McGinleys, "Phin and Tess have done a very good job protecting the place."

"But it's getting harder," Phin admitted. He looked over at Avis, "It might could be we need some help."

"So I volunteered."

Mac's head snapped around at the sound of a familiar voice. She was out of her chair a moment later, "Kate!"

Mac's eyes flew open and she stared up into the darkness, feeling disoriented. Gradually she became aware of the warm presence and steady breathing of Harm beside her. Raising up on her elbows and wincing a little, Mac ran a hand over her face. That dream had been so vivid. Looking down at the foot of the bed, she noted both kittens were there. Bill was asleep but Purrl was watching her, her eyes glinting in moonlight that streamed in from the window. Seeing Mac was awake, the kitten stood and stretched before mincing her way up the bed. Sitting on Mac's stomach, she began purring loudly.

Laying back down, Mac reached out a hand and scratched under Purrl's chin, "So you're part of this, too?" The kitten continued to purr and Mac gradually relaxed into her pillows. Sleepily consulting her internal clock, she found there was still a good three hours before she had to get up. Closing her eyes, Mac drifted back to sleep.

A/N: I must confess to a little nepotism here. Purrl Bailey is my cat (or, more realistically, I'm her person) who arrived 13 years ago at 10 weeks of age with an attitude already established. She would blithely push our 120 lb Rott-mix out of her food dish and my sister regularly refers to her as 'The Criminal'. All I can say is, God help Harm and Mac.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the delay in posting, had a tournament today (working off that turkey!) I had 3 events so my day started around 8:00 in the morning and didn't finish until about 5:00 this evening. But I'm home now (icepacks and ibuprofen in place - sucks getting old). Thanks for the reviews. Miz Purrl Bailey is sitting by my elbow, looking somewhat impatient so enough chit-chat and on with the story.

Chapter 11

Thursday,

Rashnu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

1940 Local

"Is he here?" Ezekiel looked over at Harper who nodded silently. "Have him come in, please."

The big man opened the door and gestured curtly. Once Letiro was in the room, he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Ezekiel waited until the other man had seated himself before leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk. "What do you have to report?"

Letiro shifted uncomfortably, wishing once again that he'd never gotten mixed up with this lunatic. He opened his briefcase and pulled out a folder, "The Rabbs are in their new home. It's an old farmhouse on about an acre of land in northern Falls Church. There's two more people in the house - an older man and a teenage girl. The girl is Rabb's ward, Mattie Grace. We're trying to determine who the man is. The Rabbs are still planning to leave on Sunday for Bacovia. As far as we can tell, the girl and the old man are staying behind." He pulled out another folder and opened it up, hesitating a little, "Um, I've lost contact with the team shadowing Agent Edgerton." He hurried to explain, "The man chases down fugitives in remote areas. It's possible we just can't get a signal from them."

Ezekiel's eyebrows lowered ominously, "Or he's captured them. I told you to exercise extreme caution with this man. Will they lead him back to us?"

"Of course not," Letiro snorted before moderating his tone to sound more respectful. "I've been very careful about insulating myself - and you, from the teams that do the actual surveillance." He managed to maintain his confident demeanor despite Ezekiel's glare but still exhaled in silent relief when the man turned his attention to the papers on his desk. That relief was short-lived when Ezekiel looked back up at him, "I want you to burn down the Rabb house."

"What?" Letiro straightened up in shock. "No! No way!" He flinched when Ezekiel slammed both fists down on the desk. The noise brought Harper back into the room. The big man took in the situation and turned his own intimidating gaze on Letiro.

"You will," Ezekiel's voice was deadly quiet. "I want nothing left, do you hear? Burn it all. Rabb and MacKenzie must find out what it's like to lose everything they've worked for. Find someone to do it." He scribbled on a slip of paper and slid it towards Letiro, "The first figure is what I will pay for the fire. If they happen to kill the old man and girl, the second figure is theirs as well." He tapped a finger on the desk, "It must happen while Rabb and MacKenzie are in Bacovia. Do you understand?"

"I don't - ," Letiro protested weakly while picking up the paper. His eyebrows rose when he looked at the figures. After a moment, he nodded silently and stood up. Gathering his files, Letiro walked out without a second glance.

Harper watched the man leave and turned back to Ezekiel, "Are you sure you want to trust him? He might go to the police."

Ezekiel smiled, leaning back as he steepled his fingers, "I don't trust him and he will do it. If you offer enough money, you can make almost everyone put aside their morals. He'll find an arsonist and pay him the first figure to kill the man and the girl and keep the second figure for himself." Ezekiel paused, glancing at the door, "And when he does that, he's ours forever." He looked back at Harper and grinned at his unhappy expression, "But, if it makes you feel better, you may have one of your people keep an eye on him." Looking somewhat mollified, Harper nodded. Ezekiel came forward again and rested his elbows on the desk, "Now, tell me about the arrangements in Bacovia."

Friday,

The Rabb/McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

0610 Local

"Wait a minute, you met the McGinleys?" Harm stood in the doorway of the bathroom while Mac brushed her teeth. It was obvious to him that she was still feeling the effects of yesterday's incident.

Mac rinsed and spit, before looking in the mirror at him, "I dreamed about them but you know it might have been wishful thinking on my part."

"But Avis and Kate were there, too?" Harm persisted.

"Uh-huh," Mac nodded, drying her hands and chin. She straightened carefully and turned around, "Harm, it's a real possibility that this was nothing more than a dream."

"Or it's tied to the visions you've been having," Harm countered. "Mac, you saw Avis and Kate at the wedding so that means they're still around, right?" He frowned, "I don't understand why you're doubting this now when you haven't before. I would have thought you'd be happy about talking to Avis again."

"I am. I mean I want to, it's just that - ," Mac paused, glancing away in frustration, "I don't know." She looked back at Harm, "It was easier before. I can't hear them like I used to and this dream stuff..."

Harm shook his head, "But you've said before that Avis explained that to you. That she and Kate were stepping back and staying in the background." Eyes narrowing, Harm folded his arms and tipped his head to the side, "What's this really about?"

Mac leaned back against the sink, staring at him for a few moments before reluctantly admitting, "That thing… I think it's after us, not the Dzuricks."

"What?" Harm blinked in surprise, "Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not sure," Mac started to throw her hands out in exasperation and stopped, wincing. Taking a breath, she glanced away, "I don't know what to do."

"Hey," Harm stepped forward and carefully wrapped Mac in a hug. They stood quietly for a moment before he loosened his grip and leaned back a little so he could see her, "We've been targeted before, you know, and we're still standing. Don't count us out yet."

"I'm not," Mac protested, still holding on. She tilted her head up to see him better, "But what if these visions are a warning for us? Do we still go to Bacovia? What if something happens?"

Harm was silent for a long moment, "I think we should go. The Dzuricks are expecting us and I don't like the idea of giving in to whatever this is. Besides, like you said, you're not sure either. It's possible that nothing is going to happen. We can't let that sort of fear run our lives."

He waited while Mac considered his words. It took a few moments but she finally relaxed, "You're right. If we let this sort of thing control us then we've already lost the battle."

Giving Mac one more hug, Harm stepped back and smiled, "Finish getting ready. I'll meet you downstairs." He turned around and walked out of the bathroom.

Mac watched him leave before turning back to the mirror and picking up her hairbrush. As she fixed her hair, Mac caught an odd glare flash across the wall behind her. She tensed for a moment and held perfectly still, concentrating. Relaxing again, Mac smiled and said quietly, "Good morning, Kate." Finishing up, she walked back into the bedroom. Shrugging into her uniform jacket, she grabbed her briefcase and headed downstairs. Hopefully, today would be less eventful than yesterday.

o o o o o

Harm walked into the kitchen around noon to find Matt fixing himself a sandwich. Putting the file folder he was carrying on the table, he headed for the refrigerator and pulled out the container of salad he'd mixed up earlier. The two men sat down to their respective lunches. "How's the tractor?" Harm asked as he dug into his meal. The old Ford tractor had been part of the deal for the house. The problem was that it hadn't run in years. Robert McGinley wasn't much a mechanic and had been hiring the local kids to cut the grass. Matt thought he could get it running again. Harm was going to help this afternoon. He'd spent the morning getting the new office/study in order amid some legal work.

"Still breaking it apart," Matt answered, taking a huge bite out of his sandwich. "The wiring looks okay. I've emptied out what's left of the oil. I'll need to find a bigger container for the transmission fluid. Would you believe there was a dead mouse in the bottom of the oil filter? Those little things can squeeze in anywhere." He shook his head, "I think we'll need to rebuild the carburetor, too. Hopefully we can find the parts we need at the tractor supply store." Taking a sip of his lemonade, Matt gestured towards the file folder, "What's that?"

Taking another bite of his salad, Harm wiped his hands on a napkin before picking up the folder, "These are some documents I'll need you and Mac to sign tonight when she gets home. I've asked Ellie Nichols to come by, too. She's a notary."

Matt raised an eyebrow, "What is it that needs to be notarized?" He found himself more than pleased that he'd be seeing Ellie again and was somewhat surprised at the feeling.

Harm opened the folder and pulled out a few papers, "This authorizes you to act on our behalf whenever we're out of state or the country. You'll be able to access our accounts if necessary and also gives you temporary guardianship of Mattie. I've already notified the school so if something comes up, you'll be able pick her up from school or authorize anything that may have to be done in case of an emergency." He pulled out another sheaf of papers, "And this adds you to the title of this property with right of survivorship."

Matt straightened up in surprise, frowning a little, "What's going on? Are you expecting trouble?"

Harm held up a hand, "No, not really, but we're going out of the country and these days, I'd rather be safe than sorry. You're part of the family and I want to make sure the law sees it that way, too."

Matt relaxed a little although he was still frowning, "Temporary guardianship of Mattie makes sense but making me part owner of this place? That doesn't seem right. You two are the ones who are paying for this place. Hell, I'm not even kicking in rent."

"It's called sweat equity," Harm reminded the older man while raising an eyebrow. "Believe me, having you here makes everything a lot less complicated. You're family and like I've said before, this is your home for as long as you want to stay."

Mat flushed a little, "Thank you." He concentrated on his sandwich again. Finishing it up and draining the glass of lemonade, Matt took his dishes to the sink, rinsed and put them in the dishwasher. Turning back to Harm, he tipped his head slightly, "I guess I'll see you out in the barn." He walked out.

Harm watched him go and turned back to his salad, shaking his head. It was easy to see that stubbornness was a family trait. As he finished eating, Purrl Bailey strolled into the kitchen. Idly, Harm watched her head towards him and frowned when she suddenly veered as if something was in her path. He straightened a bit, glancing around. Feeling a little silly, Harm tentatively addressed the area Purrl had avoided, "Hi Kate." He sat for a moment and when nothing happened, decided he was being stupid. Pushing the chair back, he took his plate to the sink and mimicking Matt, rinsed and put it in the dishwasher. Five minutes later, he strode out of the house and headed for the barn. They had a tractor to fix.

"He seems like a nice man," Tess glanced over at Kate as the kitchen door banged shut.

"He is. Mac's a lucky woman," Kate agreed. She looked down at Purrl who was now watching them, "You didn't have to make that big a production out of it, you know. He didn't have to know we were here." She rolled her eyes when the kitten began purring loudly and shifted her attention back to Tess, "I think I'll take a circuit around the property. Phin's at the barn, right?"

Tess nodded, "I'll be upstairs if you need me. Be careful out there."

"Always," Kate smiled and disappeared.

o o o o o

Harm walked into the barn to find Matt leaning against one of the rear tires, reading an old dog-eared booklet. "What've you got there?"

Matt looked up, raising the booklet at the same time, "It's the original manual." He glanced around the barn, "It was the weirdest thing. I found it sitting on the tractor seat when I came back from lunch. It's got the entire repair and maintenance history written in the back." He flipped to the back pages, "This is a 1965 Ford 4000 purchased used from an Otto Scheinhorst in 1968 by John McGinley. It's got an eight-speed transmission, power steering and power-adjusted rear wheels. The front-loader was added in 1972." Matt looked up from his reading to smile at Harm, "John McGinley wrote down everything, every oil change, every lube, tune-up - hell, every nut and bolt he ever tightened. He even wrote notes in the margins about the quirks. This is amazing."

"That's wild," Harm agreed, glancing around the barn.

Matt noticed him looking around and frowned, "What?"

Harm turned his attention back to Matt, "Nothing. I was just wondering where the manual came from."

Matt grinned, "I just assumed it was a gift from our landlords."

Harm raised an eyebrow. Aside from mentioning the fact that the house was supposed to be haunted, Harm hadn't really broached the subject with the older man. For some reason, it was much easier to discuss it with Mac and Mattie. Matt had never brought having ghosts up before either and Harm had pretty much decided that the former Marine was a skeptic. "You believe in ghosts?"

"Not in general," Matt replied easily, "But this place? Oh yeah." He smiled at the look on Harm's face, "That surprises you?"

Harm nodded, "As a matter of fact, it does. I guess I've always thought of you as a hard evidence type of guy."

"You mean like this?" Matt held up the manual.

"Touche," Harm grinned. He glanced around again before looking back at Matt, "Are you okay with this?"

Matt shrugged, "I'd be happier if there was a better way to communicate but other than that, I haven't got any problems. The McGinleys seem to be on our side. You can't have too many allies these days." He eyed Harm for a moment, "Can I ask you something?"

When Harm nodded, Matt rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly uncomfortable, "What's going on with Sarah? She's - different."

"You know she's still recovering from a concussion, right?" Harm offered, keeping his expression neutral. He wasn't sure exactly what Matt was talking about and he didn't want to offend. The man had had limited contact with his niece for nearly ten years. She couldn't possibly be the same as he remembered.

Matt flushed a little, "I know, and I know I've missed a lot of stuff in her life but that's not what I meant."

Harm leaned against the tractor and folded his arms, "I'm not sure what you're asking."

Glancing away for a moment, Matt scrubbed a hand over his head, "She's on edge - like she's expecting the Taliban to come through the door at any second." He eyed Harm, "Or this marriage to blow up in her face." Matt held up a hand as Harm straightened indignantly, "Calm down, I'm not saying it's anything you've done. I can see how much you love her but between my misbegotten sister and that miserable excuse for a father, Sarah's had the rug pulled out from under her too many times. The last year I was in Leavenworth, when she would come to see me, I could tell something was weighing on her but she wouldn't talk about it."

Harm exhaled slowly, feeling strangely relieved. As far as he was concerned, it was up to Mac to tell her uncle about her visions, Kate and Avis. He could handle the rest, "Mac has endometriosis. There's only a four percent chance she'll ever be able to conceive and carry a baby to term." Harm ducked his head a bit, "She tried to break off our engagement because of it. She had this idea that I would somehow grow to hate her for not being able to give me children." He snorted, "It took me the longest time to convince her that having kids didn't matter nearly as much as having her. She's a stubborn woman." He raised his eyes to see Matt looking a bit stricken, "Hey, it's okay. Really. We're going to become foster parents, maybe adopt some kids down the road. I've seen Mac with Chloe and Mattie. Our kids won't have to be blood-related for her to be a great mom."

"I had no idea," Matt cleared his throat gruffly, dropping his gaze to the floor, "My wife, Ann, and I couldn't have children either. Then Annie died of cancer while we were stationed in Japan when Sarah was seventeen."

"I'm sorry," Harm said softly. His stomach clenched a bit at the thought of losing Mac to something as insidious as cancer. Bad enough that their chosen professions had put them in danger as often as it had.

"It's okay, that was a long time ago." Matt turned back to the tractor, "Come on, let's get this thing running again."

o o o o o

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church

1710 Local

Mac pulled into the driveway and smiled widely. The tractor was sitting conspicuously near the entryway. Uncle Matt was sitting in the seat while Harm leaned against a rear wheel. Both men were grinning smugly. She lowered the window, "I'm impressed. Getting ready to plow the back forty?"

Harm pushed himself upright and sauntered over, "That, and anything else we might need to do." He leaned in to give her a kiss. "How was your day?"

"Quiet, thank goodness," Mac sighed. She gestured towards the passenger side, "Want a ride to the house?"

He shook his head, "Nah, now that you're home, we thought we'd try blading the driveway. See if we can smooth it out a bit."

"Well, that sounds like fun," Matt grinned, "Don't stay out too late. Is dinner started yet?"

"In the oven, pot roast for you carnivores, baked zucchini for me," Harm replied. He glanced at his watch, "The zucchini should be done in about fifteen minutes, the roast in another half hour. Would you keep an eye on it?"

"No problem, I'll call you guys in when it's ready. Be careful." Mac smiled one last time before continuing down the driveway. She shook her head, chuckling. Boys and their toys - it was hard to decide who was worse, Harm or Uncle Matt. Parking the Vette, she grabbed her briefcase and headed into the house. Entering the foyer, she called, "Mattie? I'm home." Glancing around, she lowered her voice, "Hi Kate, Mr. and Mrs. McGinley." Despite having 'met' them, she wasn't comfortable calling the McGinleys by their first names. It seemed disrespectful somehow.

Deciding to change before dinner, Mac began climbing the steps. Just as she reached the second floor, Mattie appeared in the hallway, "Hi Mac, you just get home?"

"Couple of minutes," Mac smiled, "Where were you?"

"Still sorting out my room," Mattie gave an exaggerated sigh. She brightened up almost immediately, "There's a dance at school next Friday night. Some of the girls in my math class asked if I wanted to go with them. Can I?"

"Have you asked Harm yet?" Mac gestured for Mattie to come along as she headed for the master bedroom.

Mattie made a face, "I was going to ask at dinner tonight. He and Uncle Matt have been working on the tractor since before I got home. Do you think he'd say yes?"

Mac put her briefcase down by the dresser and began unbuttoning her uniform, "The only problem I can see is that Harm and I won't be back from Bacovia until that Saturday. We'll have to ask Uncle Matt if he's okay with it, too." Hanging up her jacket, she continued to undress, "So, things are going well at school? You like it?"

Mattie sat down on the bed, "Yeah, it's okay. The kids seem to be friendlier and it hasn't been too hard catching up on the classwork." She hesitated a little, "Some of them know about this house. They're asking about ghosts and I kinda put them off. I'm not sure what to say."

"Well, when all else fails, go with the truth," Mac smiled as she took off her blouse and skirt and headed for the dresser to pull out a sweatshirt and slacks. She stopped and turned around when she heard Mattie sharply inhale.

Mattie was staring at her, wide-eyed, "Oh my god, Mac, your back."

"It looks worse than it feels," Mac hastened to reassure the teenager. "I'm okay, really." She pulled on the sweatshirt and headed back to the bed so she could sit down while pulling on the slacks. Mattie was still staring at her and Mac decided to try changing the subject, "Have you seen or heard anything from the McGinleys?"

Mattie paused long enough to let Mac know she knew that she was being diverted, "Aside from having my bedroom door opened every night so the kittens can get out, not really." She huffed a bit, "I don't understand why they keep doing that. I'm not trying to torture the little things. You know, on that second night, I wedged a chair against the door."

Mac's eyebrows rose. The kittens had been in their usual spot by morning. "Wow, I had no idea. Where was the chair?"

"Sitting neatly against the wall," Mattie raised her hands for a moment before dropping them back to the bed, "I can't seem to stop them. Is Harm going to be okay about it? I don't think he likes cats very much."

Mac patted her hand, "He's okay, just being a guy about it. The kittens have disrupted the timetable he had in his head and it's taking some time for him to readjust. I'm certainly fine with it." She stood up and gestured to Mattie, "Come on, I need to check on dinner." She was surprised when Mattie rose and threw her arms around her. Returning it, Mac leaned back with a smile and raised an eyebrow, "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"For marrying Harm and becoming part of my family." Mattie dropped her eyes to the floor. "It's nice to be able to talk to another woman. I haven't really had anybody since my mom... well, you know... I mean, Harm's great and everything but -," she dwindled off uncomfortably.

Mac smiled and pulled Mattie into another longer hug, "Any time you need to, sweetie. I'll be here." Letting the teenager go, she took a quick swipe at her eyes and grinned, "Now come on, before we both start blubbering and dinner burns. Harm would never let me hear the end of it."

Mattie grinned back, dashing her hand across her eyes as well, "Can't have that, we girls have to stick together."

o o o o o

Kate watched the two leave and turned to look at Tess, "Why are you letting the kittens out?"

Tess shrugged a little, "Because the female insists - she wants to be close to Sarah at night. It feels right."

Kate nodded thoughtfully, filing away yet another question for Avis when they next met. Relatively speaking, she hadn't been in this alternate reality all that long. There were still things she didn't understand. What she did understand was her job here. Avis was right, there were dark forces gathering. They had yet to pierce the boundaries of the property but Kate could feel them strengthening. It was no wonder Phin and Tess needed help.

"There's a storm rolling in tomorrow," Tess said suddenly.

Kate looked at her in surprise, "How do you know that?"

"I can sense it," Tess replied. "Let yourself go still and reach out."

Somewhat skeptical, Kate did as she was told. It took some time. After a little while, Kate turned to stare at Tess, "I could feel a disturbance far, far away. Is that the storm?"

Tess nodded, "It will grow much stronger as it nears." She glanced around, "We must be on our guard. The forces around us will see it as an opportunity to move in."

"Not on my watch," Kate growled.


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you all for the nice reviews! I've recovered from the tournament (counted up the bouts - it was 26 altogether). Won the women's event (wasn't that hard although the kids are getting better all the time), missed the top 4 in the mixed event by 1 point but I was happy with how I fenced. My opponent usually cleans my clock when we meet. Anyway, on with the story!

Chapter 12

Friday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church

1930 Local

Ellie watched as Harm, Mac and Matt signed each of the documents. As they passed them to her, she'd sign and date it as well, then affix the notary seal. Once they were done, she smiled, "Okay, you're all set." She looked around the kitchen, admiring the warm, homey feel it already had, "So how's the first few days been? Getting settled?"

Mac grinned, glancing at the rest of the family, "It's been good. It actually feels like we've been here for years, not just days."

"I'm glad." Ellie glanced around and lowered her voice a little, "Have you had any… um, visits from the former owners?" She watched the four exchange looks and then turn back to her with identical bland expressions. After a few seconds, Ellie shook her head and chuckled, holding up her hands, "Fine, I probably shouldn't have asked." She began gathering up her things.

Matt focused on Ellie, studiously ignoring the others and cleared his throat, "If you don't have to rush off, could I interest you in a cup of coffee?"

Ellie beamed, "That'd be lovely."

There was a couple of seconds of silence before Mattie suddenly jumped to her feet, "Oh, I just remembered! I've got some homework left to do. I'd better get to it." She shot a look at Harm and Mac and hustled out of the kitchen.

Harm gathered the papers, placing them in a file folder, and stood up, "I should get these filed." He bumped Mac with his hip and raised an eyebrow, "Wanna help?"

"What?" She blinked and then hurriedly rose from her chair, "Yes, sure." She followed him out, pausing in the entryway to look back at Matt. "There's some danish in the cake safe," she said before disappearing out the door.

Ellie grinned over at Matt, "You sure know how to clear a room."

Matt flushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry about that. They weren't too subtle, were they?"

Laughing, Ellie waved a hand, "Oh sure they were. It does take two people to put a folder in a file cabinet and all teenagers want to finish their weekend homework on a Friday." She leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand, "I think it's cute."

o o o o o

Mac followed Harm into the study. "Uncle Matt and Ellie?" she said as he turned around.

Harm shrugged, "Why not? I think they'd make a good couple. Matt needs to move on with his life."

"I guess," Mac dropped down onto the small loveseat. She looked up at Harm, "You think he'll move out?"

Harm sat down next to her, draping an arm across her shoulders and drawing her in close, "I think you're getting way ahead of yourself. All he's done is ask if she wanted coffee. Who knows? Once they get to know each other, she might decide he's not right for her."

Mac straightened indignantly, "Why not? What's wrong with Uncle Matt? He's a great guy." She frowned when Harm started laughing, and poked him in the side, "Stop that. It's not funny."

Harm chuckled, "Yes, it is. Are you listening to yourself?" He pulled her in a little tighter while she huffed and planted a kiss on the side of her head, "I think," he paused to kiss her again, "that we are wasting a wonderful opportunity," he kissed her a third time, "by talking about Matt and Ellie."

Mac turned into his embrace and kissed him back. When they finally came up for air, Mac smiled lazily at him, "Have I mentioned lately that I like the way you think?"

Harm grinned, "You have, but feel free to say it a couple more times."

o o o o o

Saturday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church

1730 Local

Mac stepped out on the porch to find Harm leaning on the railing. He glanced back and lifted an arm in silent invitation. Mac slid in next to him, smiling as he draped his arm across her shoulders and gave her a hug. "Finished packing?" he asked quietly.

"Pretty much," Mac replied as she gazed out across their property and sighed contentedly.

"Ever think we'd get to this place in our lives?" Harm smiled down at her.

She shook her head. "No, which is why," she turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, "I intend to enjoy every minute of it." After a couple of seconds, Mac cocked her head up at him, frowning quizzically, "What is it?"

Harm shifted them so that he was sitting back against the railing while she leaned against him. His expression serious, Harm ducked his head a little, "You know I'd never leave you, right? That this marriage is for keeps?"

Mac straightened up, eyeing him with concern, "Where'd that come from? What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing's going on," Harm raised his hands and then stuck them in his pockets, looking down at the floor. "It's just that… well, I've said some stuff to you over the years that I'm not particularly proud of."

Mac folded her arms, shifting her weight to one hip, "Right back at you, Rabb. Neither of our records are spotless. What brought this on?"

"I want you to be happy, not worrying about things," Harm shot a look at her from under his eyebrows. He pulled out a hand to wave it, "You've got enough on your plate with these visions and everything. I don't want you dwelling on 'what ifs' about us. I mean, I know we're going to fight at some point but that doesn't mean I'd ever leave you over it." He stared at her intently for a second before shaking his head ruefully, "Am I just making things worse?"

Mac stepped in closer, putting her hands on his chest, "Making things worse implies that things are already bad and that's not the case, counsellor. I am happy. I have a man who loves me," she paused, raising an eyebrow and smiled when Harm nodded vigorously, "and whom I love. I've already got more of a family than I'd ever dreamed was possible and we have a place that feels more like home with every passing day. I know we'll fight - we always do at some point, but we also always make up. So I'm fine. Really." Mac tipped her head to the side, "Are we okay now?"

Harm wrapped his arms around her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead, "Yeah, we're okay." He tipped his head down to capture her lips, savoring the taste of her, "More than okay." A rumble of thunder broke them apart. Harm glanced up at the sky and frowned, "The weatherman said there was only a twenty percent chance of storms today."

"I guess we're in that lucky twenty percent then," Mac replied, looking up at the sky as well. "So long as it clears out in time for our flight tomorrow morning." She looked around the property, "Is there anything we need to batten down?"

"I don't think so. The car windows are up," Harm looked at the house, "We should probably check to make sure all the windows in the house are closed, too." He turned and gazed thoughtfully towards the barn, "I wonder if we could convert that to a garage for the cars. It's big enough."

Mac tugged at his hand, "Talk to Uncle Matt about it. Come on, let's check the house. Is Mattie inside?"

"I think she's in her room, rearranging things again," Harm answered as he followed her in.

o o o o o

Kate listened to the front door bang shut and looked over at Phin and Tess. They were perched together on the porch roof. "How do you want to handle this?"

Phin shrugged a bit, glancing at Tess, "We've never had a set plan. It really depends on what they do."

"But the further we keep them from the house, the better? Right?" Kate gazed out across the property. As the storm slowly drew closer, she was finding her view changing as the physical landscape began to appear more nebulous. Swirls and eddies of energy were easier to see and track. She and the McGinleys were taking on a warm glow that pulsed in an oddly comforting way. The wind picked up as more clouds rolled in and lightning flickered across the sky. Kate half-closed her eyes, concentrating. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to the southern edge of the property. A cold darkness had appeared, sending out snake-like tendrils towards the house. In an instant, Kate was there and the battle was joined.

o o o o o

Saturday,

The McGinley/Rabb house

1910 Local

The thunder pealed, shaking the house and Mac glanced up towards the ceiling, "That one was close." They'd finished dinner a little while ago and after cleaning up, the adults had gathered in the living room while Mattie had headed for her room. She was expecting an email from Chloe.

Mac shivered involuntarily and Harm gave her a look, frowning a little, "You okay?" Storms had never bothered her before so he was pretty sure that wasn't it. On the other hand, there was that nagging sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop that he'd had since yesterday morning's revelation about her dream. Usually Mac's 'meetings' with Avis or Kate left her feeling happy. This last one had unsettled her enough that he'd had to pry the details out. Was her early warning system picking up on something now?

"Fine," Mac sounded distant.

Harm put down the pencil he'd been sketching with, sharing a glance with Matt before looking back at Mac, "Is anything wrong?"

Mac shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her upper arms, "I don't know. I feel… twitchy."

Matt put down his part of the garage plans he and Harm had been hashing out, staring intently at Mac, "What?"

She shrugged a bit, trying to brush it off, "Maybe it's all the lightning and electricity in the air. I can't seem to relax."

Matt stood up and moved alongside a window, pushing aside a drape to peer outside. He looked back at Harm and Mac, "I don't want to sound paranoid but storms make great cover. You never did find out any more about those bugs in your apartments, did you?"

Harm and Mac looked at each other, both remembering Michelle Elbert and the revenge she'd tried to exact. She'd struck during a storm as well. Harm got up and joined Matt at the window. "NCIS went through our current and old cases. No one's out that might be holding a grudge. I can't imagine who'd be targeting us."

Matt glanced back towards Mac before looking out the window again, "It might be nothing but if there's one thing I've learned, it's to trust your instincts. I think I'll take a look around outside." He started to move and then held up a hand when Harm began to follow, "I'd rather you stayed inside."

Harm stared at him for a few seconds, clearly considering arguing, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cellphone, "All right, but do me a favor and keep in touch. Mac's phone is number 1 on the speed-dial. If you need help, call and we'll come running."

Mac got up and stood next to Harm as Matt left the room. "He should have back-up out there," she fretted quietly, her expression still troubled.

"We don't really know if there's anything wrong. He's doing this for his own peace of mind," Harm pointed out. He nodded to the steps, "But there's two floors to this house and two of us. We can each take a floor and keep an eye out until he gets back."

Slightly mollified, Mac nodded slowly. She paused for a moment before turning to look at Harm, "We should get a couple of dogs."

Harm's eyebrows rose, "What?"

"Dogs," Mac repeated, "Phin McGinley said so, too, that we needed a couple of dogs." She gestured outside, "Their senses are lot keener than ours, they'd have known if something was going on out there."

"But a security system - ," Harm countered, half-heartedly. He knew he was out-numbered now.

"Probably wouldn't work as well during an electrical storm, and what if the power went out?" Mac reached down and grabbed Harm's hand, tugging him towards the hallway steps, "We can discuss this more, later. Uncle Matt's probably outside by now. We need to keep watch. Sidearms?"

Harm followed her up the stairs, "Yeah, I'd rather have one and not need it than the other way around."

o o o o o

Matt walked through the darkened kitchen and stepped out onto the small attached mud-porch. Sinking down to a crouch, he moved to the screen door and peered outside. Patiently, he waited and watched as the lightning flashed, illuminating the area between the house and the barn. There didn't seem to be anything moving out there. Right after the next flash, he opened the door and slid out, keeping close to the ground. Skirting to the left, he paused in one of the darker shadows cast by the house. Keeping motionless through another flash, he sprinted to a tree between the barn and the house. From there, he made it to the barn. Easing along the wall, he sank down to a crouch again as he approached the corner. Edging around it, he hurried to the doors. After checking to see that they remained locked, he moved to the next corner. Wiping at the water dripping down his face, Matt stared along the fence line, taking his time to identify every shadow cast by the trees.

He was already familiar with the layout of the property and its appearance in the dark. Unbeknownst to his niece or Harm, Matt had been making nightly rounds of the place since they'd moved in. Knowing that patterns and habits could be deadly, he'd been varying the times and routes. This was his first experience with a thunderstorm. It brought back uncomfortable memories of a harrowing mission during his time in Vietnam. Shaking his head, he forced the distracting thoughts aside, concentrating on his task instead. Satisfied that this section was clear, he moved towards the small shed that sat catty-corner to the back of the barn. Beyond this point was an open area along the southeastern edge of the property. In the center of it sat an old and dying oak tree. It's circumference was such that Matt couldn't reach around it but age had taken its toll. Enormous branches had broken off over the years, leaving it shortened and disfigured. Matt thought it a wonder that none of those branches had hit the house. He and Harm had plans to take it the rest of the way down after the honeymoon. With Mattie's help, Matt had been comparing various chainsaws on the internet.

Once again crouching in the shadows cast by the shed, Matt slowly scanned the landscape. The constant lightning was wreaking havoc with his night vision. He consoled himself with the fact that anyone else who might be out there was having the same problem. Skirting along the shed, he studied the path he planned to take back towards the house. There was no way he wanted to cross that open area. Being out in a lightning storm was bad enough, he didn't want to tempt fate more than he was already doing. Besides, there wasn't any way to avoid being seen as well. Matt had just begun to move again when he felt the hair on the back of his neck and his arms rise. Eyes widening, he dropped to a squat, curling himself into a tight ball. An intense white light was the last thing he remembered.

o o o o o

Mac tapped on Mattie's door and stuck her head in. The teenager had her headphones on and was busily typing away on her computer. "Mattie," Mac called quietly, before walking in to tap her on the shoulder.

Mattie jumped and spun in her chair, putting a hand to her chest. She pulled the headphones off, "Mac! You scared me!"

Mac gestured at the computer, "I think you'd better shut that down and unplug it. The lightning's getting worse."

Mattie blinked, glancing up at the ceiling, "Oh man, I didn't even notice. Hang on, let me save this." Quickly typing in commands, Mattie shut down the computer and then reached over to unplug it from the surge protector, "Is the TV unplugged?"

Mac shook her head, "You know, I don't know if Harm thought about it. Would you mind checking? I think I'll go unplug the landline phone in our room. It would only take one strike to fry everything."

"Sure, I'll unplug the kitchen phone, too." Mattie stood up and smiled, pointing behind Mac, "I see your shadow isn't afraid of storms."

Confused, Mac turned around and smiled herself, "Somehow, I'm not surprised." Purrl Bailey was sitting in the doorway, watching the two humans, her tail lightly swishing back and forth. Mac followed Mattie out into the hallway, turning to go to the master bedroom while Mattie headed for the steps. Mac was almost to the doorway when Purrl raced past her, taking a flying leap at the bed. She hit three-quarters of the way up and clawed the rest of the way to the top. Mac raised an eyebrow, "Not too graceful there, Miss Bailey." She grinned at what sounded like an indignant reply and tipped her head, "No offense." Not bothering to turn on lights, she sat down on the bed, absently petting the kitten while reaching down to unplug the phone jack. That accomplished, Mac turned to the window.

Moving to the side so she could look out without being seen, Mac peered into the darkness. She was beginning to wish she'd insisted on accompanying her uncle or letting Harm go, too. Anything could be out there. Lightning flashed and she shivered, glancing around the room. An uncomfortable feeling of deja vu occurred. This was how she'd felt just before that last vision in her apartment. There was another flash of lightning. It illuminated all but one corner of the room. Inhaling sharply, Mac pressed back against the wall, her eyes widening. Heart hammering, she watched as the shadow appeared to grow. This couldn't be happening. Lightning flared again and Mac jerked back in surprise. Tess McGinley stood in front of her, "Sarah! Don't give in to the fear. You'll let it in!"

Mac's mouth opened and closed soundlessly as her eyes darted back to the shadow. While it seemed more substantial, it hadn't moved any further into the room. A hiss and menacing growl suddenly drew Mac's attention. Purrl Bailey had been joined by her brother, Bill. Both kittens were in full Halloween cat mode. Ears flat, backs arched and tails looking like bottle-brushes, the two advanced stiff-legged across the bed towards the shadow. Mac stared at them, the cold fist of fear and dread that was immobilizing her loosening just a little.

As if aware of this setback, the darkness began to swell, billowing upwards in what looked like an attempt to bypass the kittens altogether. Shaking now, Mac forgot about the cats as she desperately backed up along the wall until she hit the corner. Let go of her fear? How the hell was she supposed to do that? This wasn't just fear. This was a deep-seated, primordial terror that skittered across her nerve endings. She could barely breathe.

"Dammit, Mac! Get angry! That thing's trying to invade your home," Kate suddenly appeared beside Tess. "You have to protect your family!"

"How?" Mac could barely force the word out, her eyes riveted to the shadow.

"Tell it to get out," Kate turned to face the darkness.

"What?" Shock gave Mac a momentary reprieve.

"Do it!"

Mac took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Get out of my house." It came out in a trembling whisper. The shadow loomed larger and Mac quailed as another wave of fear crashed through. This time though, a tiny part of her suddenly realized that the terror was coming from outside, attempting to separate her from rational thought with hideous, surgical precision. Indignation gained a toehold. "Get out." Her voice shook. She was halfway expecting the next surge of gut-twisting fear that hit. Panting with the effort, Mac shoved herself off the wall, tottering unsteadily, "Get Out!" The answering blast had her shaking like a leaf in strong wind. Mac hunched her shoulders, swaying with the effort, "GET OUT!" An intense white light filled the room accompanied by an unspeakably loud, mind-numbing boom. Her senses already overloaded, Mac collapsed.

o o o o o

"Mac? Can you hear me? Mac, please, you have to wake up." Gradually, Mattie's distraught voice filtered through. Mac blinked and then groaned, putting her hands up to her head. She hadn't felt this bad since high school when hangovers were as normal as breathing. "Mac?" Mattie was sounding more hopeful.

Mac blinked again before squinting up at Mattie through her hands, "What happened?" Her throat felt like it'd been sandpapered.

Mattie sat back on her heels, sounding acerbic, "You mean besides everyone in this house over the age of thirty suddenly acting nuts?"

Despite her tone, the teenager was quick to help Mac into a sitting position against the wall. Drawing her knees up, Mac rested her elbows as she massaged the back of her neck. She turned her head a little, grimacing as she did so, "What?"

"That's what I've been saying," Mattie muttered. She waved a hand towards the window, "Thunderstorm. Lightning. Dangerous. I don't expect guys to always get it but, c'mon, Mac, women are supposed to have more sense."

"Mattie," Mac warned, moving to massage her temples. That her head was pounding wasn't exactly a surprise.

"Lightning hit really, really close to the house," Mattie managed to sound contrite, exasperated and worried all at once. "Harm went out to find Uncle Matt. How could you two let him go out during a storm like this?"

"Lightning?" Mac stared at the teenager.

Mattie nodded vigorously, "I've never been that near to a strike before. It was like a million flashbulbs going off at once and sounded like a bomb exploding at the same time. Absolutely amazing. It just about knocked me out of my chair. I can't believe we still have power. Were you standing by the window when it happened?"

"Wait," Mac's head came up further as Mattie's words made it through the fog, "Harm went out to find Uncle Matt?" When Mattie nodded, she began struggling to her feet.

Mattie scrambled up as well, reaching forward to give Mac a hand, "Take it easy."

Panting, Mac leaned against the wall, surreptitiously glancing towards the corner. There was nothing there, "How long has he been gone?"

Mattie shrugged a bit, "Not long. That lightning strike was only, like, a couple of minutes ago." She eyed Mac, "Why was Uncle Matt out there in the first place? Harm wouldn't say." Mattie huffed in exasperation when Mac pushed off the wall without answering her question either. Turning as the Marine staggered by her, Mattie froze, her ire giving way to fear, "Mac? Why do you have a gun? What's going on?"

Mac paused in the doorway, leaning against it a little for support as she looked over her shoulder, "It's only a precaution. When Harm and Uncle Matt get back in, we'll sit down and talk." With that, she disappeared down the hallway.

Only partially mollified, Mattie grumbled quietly, "We'd better." As she moved to follow Mac, a muffled squeak caught her attention. Crouching down, Mattie saw two sets of eyes staring back at her from under the bed. She held out her hands, "Awww, you guys. That lightning scare you, too? Come here." The two kittens crept out but while Bill went straight to Mattie to get petted, Purrl sat down just out of reach and began casually washing an ear. Mattie picked up Bill and regarded Purrl with amused exasperation, "Oh, please. When did you become a Marine?" As she turned to leave again, Purrl hurried past. Once the kitten was in front, Mattie grinned as the little tuxedo positively swaggered down the hallway. She looked down at Bill who was happily nestled in the crook of her arm and shook her head, "Oh yeah, we bad."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I must apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. What you'll be reading is the 4th version. I don't usually have that much trouble getting from point A to point B this far along in the story and this was beyond frustrating. I'm still not completely happy with it, so I hope you'll forgive me if it doesn't seem up to snuff. I'll try to get the next chapter out a little earlier to make up for it.

Chapter 13

Saturday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

1945 Local

Mac made it down the staircase by virtue of momentum and stopped at the bottom, hanging on to the newel post. Her heart was pounding and she wasn't quite sure if it was from anxiety over Harm and Uncle Matt or the experience she'd just been through. Either way, it was making her shaky enough that she needed a few seconds to regroup. As if to mock her, thunder rumbled overhead. Mac took some comfort in the fact that this seemed more normal with a few seconds between the flash and the sound. She straightened up when she heard Mattie start coming down the stairs. Resolutely, Mac moved to the living room and stopped, unsure of what to do next. Considering what she'd just been through, she'd be more of a hindrance than a help if she went out to find Harm.

"Why don't you sit down? You look like you need to," Mattie walked into the living room, still carrying Bill. "Do you want some water or juice?"

After hesitating a moment, Mac took Mattie's advice and lowered herself carefully onto the couch. She looked over at the teenager, "Some water would be good, thank you."

"You got it," Mattie walked up to the couch and sat Bill down next to Mac before heading for the kitchen. Leaning back, Mac propped an elbow on the armrest and gingerly rubbed the side of her head. Her other hand was doing the same thing for Bill, who'd climbed into her lap and settled down. Mac heard an annoyed squawk and the sound of claws on fabric behind her. As she turned her head towards the noise, Purrl made it to the top of the couch. She stalked towards Mac, muttering under her breath.

Mac raised an eyebrow as the kitten sat down next to her, "You had to climb up the back? Wouldn't the front have been easier on you and the couch?"

"But that wouldn't have been nearly as much fun," Mattie walked back into the living room and handed Mac a bottle of water, nodding her head at the quiet 'thanks'. She perched on the chair to the side of the couch, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, "What is going on around here?"

Mac regarded her wearily, "I'm not all that sure about it but could we wait until Harm and Uncle Matt are back in? I really don't want to have to go through everything twice." As Mattie reluctantly nodded, she glanced towards the windows, worrying. Had Harm found her uncle yet? In the dark and rain, it wouldn't be easy. Was Uncle Matt okay? She wouldn't let herself dwell on the lightning strike and its possible consequences. He had to be okay. She couldn't lose him so soon after finally getting him back in her life.

Both women jumped at the sound of a door banging open in the kitchen. A moment later, they heard Harm calling 'Mac!' Mattie shot to her feet, pausing to help Mac up. The two hurried towards the kitchen. Mattie got there first but stopped when Mac's hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her forward progress. Turning, she stared at Mac with wide eyes. Mac put her finger up to her lips to signal quiet and gestured for Mattie to get behind her. The teenager complied, worry and fear apparent on her face. Her eyes widened even more as Mac drew her pistol. Checking once more to make sure Mattie was out of the line of fire, Mac dropped to a crouch and shoved the door open.

A moment later, she was straightening up and holstering her weapon. Harm and Matt were in the kitchen, more or less upright. Both men were soaked and muddy, pools of water gathering at their feet. Harm still had Matt's arm across his shoulder. "We need to get him to a hospital," he said as Mac rushed up to them, Mattie right on her heels.

"No, you don't," Matt countered. He looked at Mac and Mattie, "I'm fine."

"Like hell," Harm retorted, "For godsakes, you just got hit by lightning."

"No, I didn't." Matt pulled his arm free and stood swaying slightly. "That old oak tree got hit. I just got caught in the blast zone." He headed for a chair, "What I need is to sit down for a couple of minutes."

Harm rolled his eyes in exasperation, "What you need is to be checked out by a doctor. Stop being so stubborn."

Mac turned to Mattie, "Would you get some towels from the laundry room, please?" As the teenager hurried out, Mac looked at Harm, "Are you okay?"

"Unless you want to count having a couple of years scared off my life when I found him, I'm fine. Wet, but fine."

Mac nodded and went to crouch in front of Matt, "Do you remember what happened?" Mattie appeared back in the kitchen again, her arms full of towels. She handed a couple to Harm who nodded gratefully and walked over to Matt, giving him a couple as well. The rest she dropped on the table. Mac waited while Matt scrubbed the towel over his head and arms and then repeated her question, "Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded, "I was coming back in. I hadn't seen anything unusual or out of place. I was by the small shed and I'd just started to move when I felt the hair on my neck and arms stand up." He paused to wipe at his face again, "I knew what that meant - that lightning was about to strike - so I covered my head with my arms, put my feet together and made myself as small as possible. I was already wearing rubber-soled boots." Matt sighed a little, "It hit closer than I thought it would. It was the concussion that got me, not the electricity. I've got a headache but other than that I'm fine."

"That's what happened to you, too, right?" Mattie looked at Mac, "Do you have a headache? You didn't say anything before."

"What?" Both Matt and Harm suddenly focused on Mac.

Mac closed her eyes briefly in exasperation before sighing, "Something like that and it's not that bad." She stood up and turned to look at Harm, "We need to tell them everything."

Harm's eyebrows rose, "Everything?"

"Everything," Mac repeated with finality. She looked at Matt, "If you're sure you're okay, why don't you get cleaned up and we'll meet back here?" She turned to Harm, "You, too. Go get out of those wet clothes."

Harm gave her an unreadable look before nodding and heading out of the kitchen. Mac sighed again and grabbed a towel off the table. Carefully kneeling down, she began mopping up the muddy rainwater. After a few seconds, Mattie joined her in cleaning up. The two worked in silence for a minute or two before Mattie quietly asked, "Are you mad at me?"

Mac looked over at her in surprise, "No, sweetie, I'm not mad at you, but Harm might be a little mad at me."

"Mad at you?" Mattie frowned at her, "What for?"

Mac smiled ruefully, "Because I didn't tell him immediately that anything happened upstairs."

Mattie rolled her eyes, well aware of Harm's propensity towards over-protectiveness, "Seriously? I mean, I love the guy but he needs to lighten up."

"Well, he's got his reasons," Mac defended Harm as she sat back on her heels. "That's part of what we need to talk to you and Uncle Matt about."

"Is it something bad?" Mattie was beginning to look worried.

"Let's wait for Harm and Uncle Matt," Mac hedged a bit. She gathered the towels up and took them to the laundry room. When she returned, Harm was there wearing sweatpants and an old Navy t-shirt.

He folded his arms when he saw her, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," Mac sighed, "And I'll tell you all about it when Uncle Matt gets here."

"I'm here," Matt stood in the doorway of the kitchen, also dressed in sweatpants, although he had on a sweatshirt. "Are we ready to talk?"

Mac nodded and gestured towards the kitchen table. Once everyone was seated, she took a moment to glance around the kitchen before sharing a look with Harm. This wasn't going to be easy. Taking a breath, she looked from Mattie to Matt, "Years ago, I met a woman named Avis." She heard Harm inhale softly and plowed ahead, "It wasn't under the best of circumstances. There'd been an accident and I found myself alone in a hostile country that was dealing with an insurrection. I was caught between armies and injured. A local found me and brought me to Avis. She took me in even though it was dangerous because of who I was and where I was from." Mac smiled a little, "It helped to be multi-lingual. She passed me off as Russian in the community until I could travel and helped me escape even though it nearly got her killed."

Matt and Mattie exchanged looks before Matt cleared his throat, "I'm grateful you found someone like her but I don't understand what that has to do with what's going on now?"

Mac glanced at Harm again, "Avis was a remarkable woman in a lot of ways and in one that was pretty unique. She had what she called 'the Gift'. She was psychic."

"No way. Seriously?" Mattie grinned as her eyebrows rose in disbelief. She blinked at the look Harm gave her and backpedaled, "Sorry."

Mac leaned back and waved a hand, "No, no, I know it's hard to believe. I had a tough time with it but she knew things about me and things that had happened that she couldn't possibly have known. Despite that, she was also one of the most pragmatic, down-to-earth people I'd ever met."

Matt was shaking his head, "I'm sorry but did she tell you your future or something? I still don't understand."

Mac looked at Mattie and Matt, "What she told me was that I have the 'Gift', too. I never told her about the visions I'd had about Chloe and Harm but she knew. From her, I learned to stop fighting what I was seeing and accept it."

"So you can see stuff?" Mattie asked, glancing at Matt. Despite what Chloe had told her about being lost after getting thrown from her horse and how Mac had found her and about Harm's rescue after punching out in a storm, Mattie had never put a label to it. It was much easier to believe in that sort of thing in the abstract - sort of like believing in ghosts or the tooth fairy. It was kinda fun because deep down, you knew it wasn't really possible. It was much harder to admit in real life. Mattie leaned forward, "Like ghosts? Does this mean you can see the McGinleys?"

"I can and I have," Mac replied simply. "They're still here because they've been protecting this place."

Matt frowned, "Protecting it from what?"

"Evil." She held up a hand to forestall Matt and Mattie's response for a moment, "And before this sidetracks into some religious or philosophical discussion of hypothetical absolutes, let me tell you, good and evil do exist. I don't exactly understand how it all works but from what I can gather, good and evil tend to balance each other. Sometimes one is up while the other is down but eventually it evens out. Once in a while, though, evil tries to exert undue influence in this reality. That's what's happening now. It's trying to get in here and the McGinleys have been stopping it," Mac folded her hands, knowing Harm was not going to be happy about what she was about to say.

"Ooo, I read about something like this," Mattie exclaimed, "There was this old bed and breakfast in southern Illinois that a couple bought. It was haunted by a bunch of ghosts. They were the good ones but they warned the owners about letting evil get in. This place had a reputation for being haunted and a local radio station asked to broadcast from there on Halloween. The owners said okay but told the station not to let anyone bring a ouija board. Long story short, someone not only brought one but used it and that opened the door for evil to get in. Not much later, the place burned to the ground." Mattie stared at Mac, "Is that what's trying to happen here?" Her eyes widened, "Oh my god, is that what happened to you upstairs?"

Harm straightened suddenly, "What?" He glared at Mac, "Why didn't you tell me? What happened upstairs?"

Mac glared right back, "There hasn't been time and I'm not sure." She scrubbed a hand through her hair, "There was a shadow in the corner of the bedroom where there shouldn't have been. It scared the hell out of me. I literally couldn't move and then Tess McGinley showed up and told me that my fear was letting it in."

Harm scowled, "How did it get by the McGinleys in the first place? And where was Kate? I thought she was supposed to be helping them."

"She was. Kate showed up next," Mac retorted. She raised her hands, "Look, I'm not exactly sure how it happened but Kate told me I had to tell it to get out - that it couldn't come in without my permission." Mac glanced away for a moment, "I was shaking so hard at that point, I could barely get the words out. I finally did and then that damn lightning bolt hit. I guess I blacked out for a minute or two."

Harm was still upset, "What the hell is going on? Are we going to be safe here? Why didn't Avis show up? Isn't this what she's supposed to handle?"

"I don't know!" Mac snapped. She stopped suddenly and turned her head to look at Matt and Mattie. They were staring at both Harm and Mac.

Mattie found her voice first, rounding on Harm, "Wait a minute, you already know about this stuff? For how long? And who's Kate?"

Matt was staring at Mac, "I'm more interested in Avis. This couldn't possibly be the same woman you were telling us about, could it?"

Mac shot a look at Harm who managed to look somewhat contrite. She gave a heavy sigh, "Kate and Avis are, for lack of a better term, my guardian spirits. They usually stay in the background and deal with the otherworldly things. According to Avis, Harm and I have been tipping the balance in favor of good for a while and the other side has gotten ticked. They're not exactly known for fighting fair," she added dryly.

"And you know this because - ?" Mattie was looking completely flummoxed.

"Because they told me," Mac tried to hold on to her patience. This whole conversation was spinning out of control. She rolled her eyes at their incredulous looks, "And no, I'm not crazy. When I first saw them, I thought it was just a dream. Then things turned nasty and suddenly I could hear them when I was awake."

"Was this in California?" Mattie asked cautiously.

"Yes, and yes, it was after I got the concussion and no, I wasn't delusional," Mac scowled. "Part of it was because Kate hadn't realized she wasn't supposed to make contact with me, but mostly it was because evil was actively interfering in this reality. Avis stepped in to maintain the balance." She drummed her fingers on the table for a moment, "A lot of what happened out there is pretty foggy because of the concussion but I do know the only reason I'm still here is because of them."

"So let me get this straight - this particular piece property is under siege by evil forces or spirits or whatever and the ghosts of Mr. and Mrs. McGinley, along with your 'guardian angels', are keeping them out?" Matt ran a hand over his head and stood up, "I'm sorry, Sarah, but that's the biggest load of - "

"Sit down, Mr. O'Hara."

Matt's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. He'd been looking right at Sarah and it was obvious she hadn't said anything. That voice had sounded like it was inside his head. He sat down slowly, "Who said that?"

Harm stared at him, "Said what?" He looked over at Mac to find her scanning the kitchen, frowning slightly, "Mac?"

She gave him a quick reassuring look before resuming her sweep of the room. Finally, she caught a faint distortion near the stove. With it came a familiar calm that dispelled anxieties, including a few she hadn't been completely aware of. Mac smiled, "Avis?"

Mattie eyes grew round, "She's here? Now? Oh wow - "

"Mr. O'Hara," Matt nearly stiffened to attention as the voice spoke to him again, "Now is not the time for doubts. Circumstances are changing rapidly and your experience and courage will be needed." Matt blinked in surprise as the voice turned wry, "I believe you did say one could not have too many allies. The truth of that statement will soon become apparent. Will you help?" When he nodded soundlessly, the voice whispered, 'Thank you' and was gone.

Matt stared at Mac in amazement, "That was your Avis?" When she nodded, he sat for a long moment and then leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, "Okay, what's the plan?"

o o o o o

Saturday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

2230 Local

Harm walked out of the bathroom and climbed into bed, sliding under the covers. Mac was waiting for him while Purrl and Bill Bailey were already curled up asleep at the foot of the bed. The discussion with Matt and Mattie had gone more smoothly after Avis had apparently put her two cents in. Despite misgivings, Harm and Mac were still leaving for Bacovia in the morning. It was far too late to cancel and, without coming right out and saying it aloud, they were both in agreement that if something was after them, they'd rather lead it away from their home. He turned to face her, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Mac gave him a slight smile, "Yes, I'm fine." She glanced into the corner of the bedroom and shivered a bit, "Although if I never see that thing again, it'll be too soon. I can't believe how scared I was being so close to it."

Harm frowned, scrubbing a hand over his head, "I'd still like to know how it made it in here."

Mac drew her knees up and rested her arms, "I've been thinking about that. I'll bet it had something to do with the storm." The evening news had been all about the storm that had blasted through the area. The station meteorologist had rattled on about low pressure systems, unexpected diversions in the jet stream and everything else they could think of to explain the rapid growth and violence of what was supposed to have been scattered showers.

"You could be right," Harm smothered a yawn and slid deeper under the covers, opening his arms, "It's late and we need to get up early, come here."

Mac nestled into his embrace, smiling as she felt him press a light kiss on her shoulder while snaking an arm around her waist. Draping her arm over his, she drifted off to sleep.

o o o o o

Mac was more or less expecting to find herself in the Shenandoah Valley so it wasn't a surprise when Avis' kitchen appeared around her. Hearing the tea kettle begin to whistle, she walked over to the stove. Grabbing a towel, she lifted the kettle and walked it back to the table, pouring the water into the waiting teapot. There were four cups and saucers already set out. Hearing footsteps as she returned the kettle to the stove, Mac turned to see Avis walking into the kitchen carrying a tray of biscuits, butter and cheeses.

The blonde smiled warmly at her, "Sarah, how are you feeling? Have a seat. Kate and Tess should be along shortly."

"What I'm feeling is confused," Mac replied as she walked back to the table. "How did that thing get in? Can it happen again?"

Avis sat the tray down in the middle of the table, "What you faced was... well, I suppose you could call it an advance scout and what happened today was a surprisingly coordinated attack." She began pouring the tea, "Evil, by its nature, is chaotic. So, although it can be quite powerful, it tends to hit in fits and starts."

"But not this time," Mac didn't like the implications.

"Not this time. However, thanks to you, Kate and the McGinleys, it expended a tremendous amount of energy and has absolutely nothing to show for it." Avis looked grimly satisfied, "It will take it some time to recoup." She turned as the kitchen door opened and smiled, "Ladies, come sit down. The tea's ready." Mac turned as well and wasn't at all surprised to see Jolly Roger and Purrl Bailey stroll in with Kate and Tess.

Kate walked up to Mac and gave her a hug before holding her at arm's length and eyeing her closely, "Are you okay? I was afraid you were going to give yourself a heart attack."

"That was one of the goals," Avis put in as she gestured for everyone to take a seat.

"What?" Somewhat shocked, Mac thumped down onto her chair. Purrl was in her lap a moment later, purring loudly.

Avis looked at her, "Sarah, you need to understand this evil cannot physically touch you despite appearances to the contrary. It can and will attempt to manipulate your mind and emotions and cause you to hurt yourself. It tried fear this time and, fortunately, was unsuccessful."

Mac frowned, "This time?"

Kate and Avis exchanged glances. "The first time was in California," Avis said gently, "You'd been drugged. It caused you to believe you were eighteen again and tried to use despair."

"Oh god," Mac blanched. That had been one of the worst times in her life.

"It failed, obviously," Avis interrupted her thoughts. "Please don't dwell on it."

Mac gave herself a mental shake and exhaled softly. She gave Avis a curious look, "Where were you during all this?"

Avis smiled, "I was deflecting lightning."

o o o o o

Sunday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

0730 Local

Harm carried their bags down and put them in the SUV. Matt was going to drive them to the airport so he could keep the Lexus for the week. The 'Vette didn't have enough room for their luggage and, in any case, neither Mac nor Harm would have felt comfortable leaving it in long-term parking. Mac stood on the porch and gave Mattie a hug, "Don't forget you can call us if you need to. Bacovia's seven hours ahead."

"I know," Mattie smiled, refraining from pointing out that both Harm and Mac had mentioned that at least twice in the last ninety minutes. She wasn't sure if it was reaction from last night's incident or just newlywed nerves. "Have fun, say hi to Grandma Trish and Grandpa Frank."

"Okay, fine, I get it," Mac rolled her eyes, good-naturedly. "I will stop being a worrywart." Talking to Avis, Kate and Tess last night had done much to restore her equilibrium.

"No you won't," Mattie corrected, still grinning, "but that's okay. You guys be careful traveling and drink lots of water. I hear it helps with jet lag."

"Yes, mom," Mac retorted lightly. "Come here and give me another hug for the road."

Harm came up the steps as they were still hugging, "Hey, can I get one of the those?"

"Maybe. Can I drive the 'vette while you're gone?" Mattie jokingly retorted before throwing her arms around him.

Harm gave her a big hug, grinning widely, "Not a chance." He turned to Mac, "We better get going." She nodded, and the two walked down to Matt and the waiting Lexus.

o o o o o

Monday,

Kalyazin National Airport

Kalyazin, Bacovia

0120 Local

Harm and Mac walked slowly down the skyway to the terminal. Between the time zones and connecting flights, they'd spent most of the day either in a plane or waiting for one to show up. Now, all they really wanted to do was collapse on a piece of furniture that was A. - intended for sleeping, and B. - not moving or vibrating in some way. Passing through the doors that led to the concourse, Harm looked around and smiled tiredly. He turned Mac slightly to the left. "I just spotted our ride," he explained at her curious look. Easing through the crowd of travelers, the two JAG officers smiled a greeting at the familiar figure standing to the side. Harm stuck out a hand, "Pick, good to see you again."

"Sir, ma'am, good to see you, too," Pick shook Harm's hand and got a hug from Mac. He turned a little and gestured, "Baggage claim is this way."

"How'd you get stuck with this detail?" Harm asked as they walked along with the rest of the crowd.

Pick grinned, "I volunteered in the interests of national security." At both Harm and Mac's raised eyebrows, he chuckled, "Tink and Maggie got in yesterday. Tink volunteered to pick you two up this morning but he's got some serious jet lag. I figured if he fell asleep waiting for your flight and tipped over, there was a good chance he'd land on some innocent Bacovian family, wiping them out, and that would cause an international incident."

Mac laughed, "And did you present your argument to him in just that way?"

"I did," Pick rejoined, his serious expression belied by the mischievous glint in his eye.

"And yet, you're still standing," Harm noted with a smile.

"Lt. Bell, despite the detrimental influence of the Corps, has been known on occasion, to exhibit a modicum of common sense," Pick spoke solemnly before grinning widely, "And he fell asleep." They walked into the baggage claim area. It was a good ten minutes before the carousel began to move. Mac leaned tiredly against Harm as they made small talk with Pick, waiting for their luggage to appear. Once their bags showed up, Harm and Pick made short work of piling them onto the luggage cart Pick had acquired. Grabbing the cart and turning it to the left, Pick tilted his head, "Okay, the car's this way." They followed along behind him. Harm had an arm wrapped around Mac's waist. Stepping out of the terminal building, Pick nodded to the airport guards and headed towards a black SUV parked in front of the building.

"Convenient," Harm remarked.

Pick smiled, pointing at the plates, "One of the perks of borrowing a Royal-mobile. Climb in, I'll get the luggage." By the time he'd loaded the bags and returned to the driver's side, both Harm and Mac were asleep. Shaking his head, Pick quietly shut the door and started up the SUV. Pulling out of the airport, he headed for palace. Pick stole glances every now and then at the sleeping couple as he drove, deciding that marriage certainly agreed with them both. Hopefully, he and Mo would be as happy. All the official ceremonies would be over by Thursday and he planned to ask for her hand on Friday. He smiled to himself, this would be a week to remember.


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks to all who reviewed - you were all quite kind about that chapter and I appreciate it. The pace of the story will be picking up; however, as Christmas draws closer (Am I done shopping? No. Christmas cards out? No. Christmas baking? hahahaha - No.), the pace of my posting will probably slow down a bit. Those of you who celebrate this holiday know how crazy it can get. I promise to do the best I can and I hope y'all will be patient. Thanks and on with the story!

Chapter 14

Tuesday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

1430 Local

Matt threw some more debris into the wheelbarrow. He'd bought it on Monday after the storm and, as far as he was concerned, it had already paid for itself. The ground was too wet to bring the tractor over and the wheelbarrow was filling in nicely. Gathering up one more armful, he put that in the barrow, too. Deciding it was full enough, he grabbed the handles and headed for the corner of the property he'd designated as the compost area. Dumping the load, he walked back towards the remains of the old oak. The lightning strike had done what he and Harm had been planning to do later. The problem was that it was considerably messier than what they would have accomplished. Matt was still planning on acquiring a chainsaw. Some of the larger branches were too heavy to move and were large enough to cut into firewood. They'd been down long enough to dry out and Matt figured they'd be safe to use in the fireplace this winter.

As he headed back, Matt caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he watched a dog trot across the back of the property. It seemed to know where it was going and Matt shrugged, continuing on his way. It probably belonged to someone in the subdivision. He had filled the barrow about halfway again when he heard his name being called. Straightening up, he turned towards the house and smiled, waving a hand. Mattie was walking towards him from the corner of the house. He'd been a little nervous about dealing with a teenager on his own - Sarah had been his last experience - but so far, things were going well. They were taking turns with the cooking chores, trying different recipes out on each other. Mattie seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. "How was school?" he asked when she was close enough to hear.

"Okay." Mattie made a face, "History's been pretty boring, though." She pointed over his shoulder, "Who's your friend?"

Confused, Matt turned around. Sitting quietly, watching the two of them was the dog he'd seen earlier. It was a medium sized female, black and white with tan accents on her head. "I think she's from the subdivision. I saw her going by earlier."

"She's cute." Mattie moved a little past Matt and squatted down, gesturing, "Come here, girl." The dog studied her for a moment before getting up and trotting over. As she got closer to Mattie, she slowed down, dropping her head and practically crawling the last few steps. "Awww," Mattie knelt down and gathered the dog in her lap. She looked up at Matt, "No collar, maybe she's a stray. Can we keep her?"

Matt rubbed a hand over his head, "Mattie, she probably belongs to someone."

"Well, maybe she's lost. We could put signs out and see if anyone's looking for her," Mattie argued reasonably. "I'd hate to send her on her way and have her get hit by a car or something." Petting the dog's head, she turned it towards Matt, "Look at that face. How can you resist?"

Matt sighed as he squatted down and reached out a hand to let the dog sniff. She was obviously a mix, short-coated except for a wiry beard under her chin. Her build and coloring was reminiscent of a border collie with black extending from her muzzle to her tail and a white underside and ruff. There were tan spots above each eye and tan along the sides of her muzzle fading into the white. She licked his hand, her tail thumping slowly. Matt looked up a hopeful Mattie, "Okay, but don't get attached. I'm sure her family's looking for her."

"Thank you!" Mattie flung an arm around his neck and kissed his cheek. "I'll go make some signs right now." She turned towards the house, patting her leg, "Come on, girl."

The dog looked at her and then at Matt. He pointed towards Mattie, "Go on." To his surprise, the dog turned and trotted obediently after the teenager. Matt shook his head. The dog definitely belonged to someone. He went back to work. He was nearly finished except for the pieces that needed to cut up and he'd managed to drag the smaller ones over enough to get them in one group. His next project would be trimming off low-hanging branches on the trees closer in. He didn't want anything obstructing his view or offering concealment near the house.

Forty-five minutes later, he walked into the kitchen. It was Mattie's turn to cook and she was planning on making tacos. He wasn't surprised to find the dog lying on a towel near the kitchen table, her head between her paws. He was surprised to find Bill and Purrl Bailey sitting with tails neatly curled about three feet from the dog at right angles to her and each other. He gestured towards the animals, "What's this?"

Mattie looked over her shoulder and shrugged, "They've been like that for the last twenty minutes or so. I think they're contacting the Mother Ship."

Matt shook his head, chuckling as he walked over to the sink. Washing and drying his hands, he reached around Mattie to pluck a finger-full of shredded cheese. She slapped at his hand, "Stop that. Dinner will be ready soon enough."

Grinning, he popped the cheese into his mouth and walked back to the kitchen table. Picking up one of the signs Mattie had been making, he studied it. All it said was, 'Found, Female dog' and their phone number. He looked back at Mattie, "Kind of sparse on information, isn't it?"

She turned to look at him, "I want to make sure whoever calls actually knows the dog. I don't want someone claiming her and then selling her to a lab or something."

"You're kidding," Matt's eyebrows rose, appalled at the thought. He sat down. A minute later, the dog was sitting beside him, resting her head on his leg and staring up at him. He stroked her head and scratched behind her ears, smiling as she began 'talking' to him, "Had a tough day, girl?"

Mattie grinned to herself as she continued to prepare dinner, putting aside some ground beef for the dog. They would have to go by a store tonight and pick up some dog food and other necessities. Somehow she didn't think Matt would object. Hopefully no one would claim the dog because it was apparent the dog had staked a claim on Uncle Matt.

Wednesday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

2130 Local

The orchestra music filled the grand ballroom as the assorted guests, dignitaries and sundry diplomats took to the dance floor. Harm and Mac moved easily through the crowd. Since their arrival in Bacovia, everything had been practically idyllic. Regular phone calls home had confirmed that nothing untoward had happened in their absence. Gradually, they'd been able to let go of the worry and enjoy themselves. She looked up at the smile plastered across his face and smiled herself, "You look happy."

Harm pulled her in a little tighter and planted a quick kiss on her nose, "I am, Mrs. Rabb. Believe me, I am."

Mac's grin widened, "It seems like a fairy tale, doesn't it? All those years and now here we are, on our honeymoon, dancing in the grand ballroom of a castle filled with royalty."

Harm leaned down for another quick kiss, "Here's to happy endings."

"Happy beginnings," Mac countered as she rested her head on his shoulder. He was the perfect height, she mused as they danced and then laughed at herself for the silly path her thoughts were taking. They continued to move to the music, making another circuit of the ballroom before the song ended. They broke apart, although Harm kept hold of Mac's hand, "How about something to drink?

"Sounds good," Mac smiled up at him. They made their way to the side where a table of refreshments stood and Harm poured them both some punch. Sipping their drinks, they watched the crowd swirl by as the orchestra began playing again. Mac smiled as she watched Pick and Mo Dzurick dance by and looked up at Harm, "They look good together, don't they?"

"I think 'besotted' is probably a better word," Harm said wryly. "Pick's got it bad."

"Mo's not much better," Mac smiled in return, turning back to watch the colorful scene. She shivered suddenly, instinctively clutching Harm's sleeve.

Surprised, Harm swept his gaze around the area before lowering his head towards Mac, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. After a second or two, she gave him a weak smile, "Sorry, I think it was just a moment of deja vu." When he raised an eyebrow, she sighed and lowered her voice, "This reminds me of the ball I attended with Avis. I was chatting with Corinna and watching the dancing when that lunatic woman, Mary Patrick, attacked me." She shook her head again, "It's just a memory."

Harm looked at her somewhat skeptically, "Are you sure? This isn't... "

"No, I don't think so," Mac answered firmly. "Really, Harm, I'm good." Determinedly, she looked back at the crowd and nodded, "There's your parents. They're an elegant couple, aren't they? They fit right in with this crowd."

"Uh-huh," Harm grinned and nudged Mac, pointing out Tink, Maggie, Gunny Walters and Robyn. Both men dwarfed their wives, although Tink made everyone around him look small. "So when did ballroom dancing become part of Marine boot camp? They're both pretty light on their feet."

Mac raised an eyebrow at him, "Now why does that seem like a dig at the Corps? Are you suggesting something, Navy?"

Harm put a hand to his chest, his expression innocent, "Whatever do you mean? I was just making an observation."

"Yeah, right," Mac lightly slapped his arm, "Watch it, sailor, before we start discussing Naval history."

"Married only a week and already the beatings have started."

Hearing the warm baritone, Harm and Mac turned to find Gheorghe and Carol smiling at them. Mindful of public protocol, Harm bowed while Mac dropped a curtsy, "Your Majesties."

"It's 'Highnesses' now," Gheorghe corrected mildly with a look at Carol, "Queen Margarete is now on the throne."

"Yes, Your Highness," Harm smiled as he bowed once again before relaxing a bit, "How does it feel to be retired?"

Gheorghe glanced over at Carol again and smiled, "Surprisingly light. I know Bacovia's in good hands."

Mac tilted her head, "WIll you stay here in the capital?"

Carol nodded, "For a while. Cat's been preparing for this almost from birth but I suspect she won't mind having her father's experience close at hand until she settles in. After that, we'll probably move to the summer palace. I'm looking forward to it."

"And the rest of the kids?" Mac asked.

"Well, as you know, Mo has to return to the US to finish her senior year and then whatever posting she's given. El will come with us but Nicky has asked to stay here with Cat. We've given our permission and Cat has agreed as well." Carol couldn't help sighing a little.

Mac regarded her sympathetically, "They're all growing up. I guess it's hard watching them leave the nest."

Carol smiled ruefully, "I'm beginning to understand what my mother went through. I know it's inevitable but it's still going to take some getting used to."

"You'll manage," Mac gave her a warm smile, "You've got good kids."

"Yes, we do," Gheorghe agreed and then cleared his throat, "Mrs. Rabb, may I have this next dance?" He glanced at Harm, his eyes twinkling, "If your husband does not object?"

Surprised, Mac blushed a little before giving him a dazzling smile, "I'd be honored, your Highness."

Amused, Harm watched the crowd melt away from Gheorghe as he escorted Mac onto the floor, giving the former King a respectful distance. Mac was never comfortable being the center of attention and now every eye was on her and Gheorghe. He glanced over at Carol and offered his arm, "Would your Highness care to dance as well?"

"I'd love to," Carol grinned up at him. They joined the throng and were soon chatting amicably as Harm moved them effortlessly around the floor. Halfway through the dance, the lights in the ballroom flickered. Harm and Carol, as well as almost everyone in the room, glanced upward. At that moment, a blinding flash went off, filling the entire room with an intense white light before dimming to near darkness.

"Son of a... " Harm ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut and then blinking rapidly. He could barely see. "Carol?" He still had a hold of one of her hands.

"I can't see. What happened?"

"I don't know, an electrical short?" Harm raised his head, squinting through watery eyes. Almost as if on cue, another flash went off and Harm groaned, dropping his head and covering his eyes with his free hand. From the cries around him, he knew he wasn't the only one to suffer from that second intense light. This time it felt like someone had shoved a needle into each eye. Abruptly, the lights in the ballroom went out entirely, plunging everything into pitch blackness. While it lessened the pain in his eyes, it was also like having a bag over his head. He was completely blinded. Harm fought against the panic of not being able to see at all.

A few seconds later, Carol gave a surprised yelp that was quickly cut off. At the same time, her hand was yanked out of Harm's grasp. Alarmed, he turned towards the sound only to take a vicious blow to the midsection that nearly brought him to his knees. He was still trying to get air back in his lungs when his arms were yanked behind him. In a matter of seconds, he'd been gagged and bound and was being dragged forward. Harm started to struggle, trying to delay his captors. It earned him a hard blow to the side of his knee that buckled his entire leg. Harm's scream was muffled by the gag.

His captors hurried forward again. Harm limped along as fast as he could. Someone was holding the rope tied to his wrists and every stumble wrenched his arms upward, sending a shooting pain through his shoulders. It also earned him a sharp jab to the ribs from one side or the other that left him gasping. A change in sound and air pressure told Harm they'd left the ballroom. His eyes still weren't working properly. The two men holding him stopped and tried to force him to his knees. He fought against it as much on principle as on the fact that he didn't think he could get his injured knee to bend. His resistance earned him a powerful fist to the stomach that folded him over. A club landed across his shoulders next and he stumbled, still unwilling to kneel. Harm thought he heard a muttered oath just before something hard connected with the back of his head and he collapsed in a boneless heap.

o o o o o

Wednesday,

FBI HQ

Los Angeles, CA

1050 Local

Don Eppes looked up from his computer at a sudden commotion near the elevators and frowned. Ian Edgerton had just exited, hauling a large man who was looking decidedly worse for wear. Don glanced at the rest of his team and stood up as Edgerton headed towards him, "Hey Ian, what's going on?" He could feel a familiar knot of unease settling in his stomach. There had to be a reason Edgerton was bringing his prisoner over instead of taking him straight to booking and chances were, it wasn't good.

Ian moved past him towards one of the interrogation rooms, "You need to hear this, Eppes."

Mystified and even more on edge, Don followed him. Megan, David and Colby exchanged looks and headed for the observation room. Don shut the door and turned around in time to see Ian sit his prisoner none too gently in a chair. Folding his arms, Don frowned, "What's going on?"

"Meet Drew Letiro," Edgerton lightly slapped the back of the man's head. "He's a subcontractor for Rashnu Enterprises." He slapped the back of Letiro's head again, "Tell Agent Eppes what you've been doing, Drew."

"I haven't - ", Drew ducked as Ian raised his hand again. He turned desperately to Don, "Look, it was a job. I was just following orders."

Don regarded him stonily, "Following orders to do what?"

"He had people trying to tail me." Ian snorted derisively, "I followed one back to another and finally back to this guy." He poked Letiro on the shoulder, "Tell Agent Eppes who else you were watching."

"It was a couple of lawyers, that's all," Drew kept a wary eye on Edgerton. He cringed as Ian straightened a little, "Military lawyers in DC, okay?"

Don stiffened, "Rabb and MacKenzie?" When Letiro reluctantly nodded, he took a step forward, scowling, "Why?"

"It was a job! I don't ask why. It's none of my business. All we do is report what the subjects are doing." Drew looked nervously around the room. He shot a quick glance at Ian and blurted out, "I want a lawyer!"

Don looked at Ian, "What's he charged with?"

"Is stupid a crime?" Ian grunted, while glaring at Letiro. He looked at Don, "He took a shot at me."

"I didn't know who you were! I thought you were some thug coming to rob me!" Drew whined.

Don folded his arms, while raising an eyebrow, "You didn't recognize the guy you were contracted to spy on? Try again. Attempted murder of a Federal agent is pretty damn serious."

Drew blanched at the words 'attempted murder', "Look, can't we make a deal or something? I didn't hurt anybody."

"Except for trying to kill me," Edgerton growled.

"And putting Col. MacKenzie in the hospital when NCIS busted up your little operation," Don added. At Ian's surprised look, Don pointed at Letiro, "A week before the wedding, Mac called NCIS because she thought her apartment was bugged. They found them and the guy listening on the other end. When they went back to the apartment, Mac was on the floor. The doctors suspected some sort of electrical shock. Their investigation hit a dead end. The guy they picked up couldn't give them anything." He glared at Letiro who stared back wide-eyed, "So what the hell did you do?"

Letiro open and shut his mouth a couple of times before he spluttered, "Nothing! Honest to God, nothing! We only observe."

Ian leaned in with a feral smile, "You know, attacking an active duty military officer might be considered terrorism. You could be on your way to Gitmo by morning."

"No! Wait, look, Ezekiel's the guy you want! The guy that hired me! That dude's a real whack job." He leaned in, "He wanted us to crash the wedding reception. When I told him we couldn't, he started asking about that coronation they're going to."

Don felt the hair rise up on his neck, "And?"

"And - I don't know," Letiro deflated. "He just seemed real interested in those two." He glanced at Ian half-defiantly, "He didn't give a rat's ass about you."

Don stifled a smile at the look on Edgerton's face. He tipped his head towards the door and Ian nodded. Edgerton growled 'stay put' at his prisoner before walking out the door. Don followed. They walked into the observation room where the rest of Don's team waited. Don looked at Megan and nodded back towards Letiro, "What do you think?"

Megan crossed her arms, frowning, "He's hiding something but I think he's telling the truth about Mac. He seemed honestly surprised."

Don nodded, "Yeah." He looked over at Colby and David, "See what we've got on this Ezekiel guy and - " he looked over at Ian.

"Rashnu Enterprises," Edgerton supplied. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "What coronation is he talking about and why are Rabb and MacKenzie going to it?"

"It's taking place in a little country east of the Balkans called Bacovia," Don explained, "It's a monarchy that was absorbed by the Soviet Union right after WWII. The royal family was granted refuge here in the US and the crown prince married an American. When the Soviet Union broke up, Bacovia regained its sovereignty and the royal family returned to power."

"O-kay, is this where I express my amazement at the depth of your knowledge of trivia? I usually expect this sort of stuff from the Professor." Ian leaned against a table and raised an eyebrow, "And I still don't know how Rabb and MacKenzie are involved."

"That crown prince who married the American became King and also had four children with dual citizenships. The oldest are a pair of identical twins - one is about to become Queen and the other is finishing her senior year at the US Naval Academy. Almost four years ago, there was an assassination plot against the royal family. Rabb and MacKenzie stopped it and they've been friends of the family ever since," Don finished.

Ian rolled his eyes, "Why doesn't that surprise me? What do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know yet but we'd better get a handle on this and quick," Don glanced at his watch, frowning. "Bacovia's what? Ten or so hours ahead of us?" He looked at Megan, "Do you remember when the coronation takes place?"

"Today, I think," Megan frowned as well, "Mac mentioned that the actual ceremony starts at noon but the partying would go on for the next three or four days."

"Do we have an Embassy we can contact?" Don frowned. They all turned when Colby walked back in, his expression grim.

"Uh-oh," Megan breathed quietly.

"What?" Don asked at the same time.

"Rashnu Enterprises is a private investigation firm here in LA. From what we can tell, its clientele tend to be high-rollers. The firm, on the other hand, is so low-profile that it's hard to find out much," Colby began, "According to its corporate charter, it's run by a man called Michael Ezekiel. Rashnu's got a reputation for getting the job done no matter what the consequences. They've never been in trouble officially but that seems to be more a matter of lack of evidence and uncooperative witnesses." He folded his arms, "The thing is Michael Ezekiel didn't exist until about five years ago."

"Is there any way to identify him?" Don asked.

Colby shrugged uncomfortably, "David's looking into it. We do have an Embassy in Bacovia, Should we contact them?"

"Not yet, we need something more concrete to tell them," Don shook his head. "Do we have any pictures of Ezekiel to run through the facial recognition program?"

"No, this guy is definitely off the grid. No driver's license, no personal credit cards, no cell phone and his home address is a PO box," Colby raised his hands and then let them drop.

"We have one way to identify him," Ian broke in as he straightened up. "We've got ourselves an eyewitness." He moved towards the interrogation room. Don, Colby and Megan exchanged looks before following him.


	15. Chapter 15

Happy Holidays to the politically correct - Merry Christmas and Kwanza to those who enjoy the season and aren't offended by the little stuff. Still scrambling - Christmas cards done and sent, shopping almost done, baking on a wait and see basis, housecleaning definitely behind schedule - yup, it's Christmas time! Thanks for the kind reviews - a very nice present from each of you! :-) My sister and I don't have to join the family gathering until the afternoon so I'm going to try to post Christmas morning (after the horses, dogs and barn kitties are fed, of course) - I hope you'll consider it my gift to you.

Chapter 15

Wednesday,

FBI HQ

Los Angeles, CA

1210 Local

Megan straightened up suddenly, staring at her computer screen, "Don! We got a hit." She moved to the side as Don, Colby and David walked over. Ian had left thirty minutes ago to process his prisoner. Letiro had given them a fairly detailed description. Don was hoping it wouldn't turn out to be the man's dry cleaner or dentist.

"'John Philip Trask, wanted for multiple counts of murder, kidnapping, assault, attempted murder, receiving stolen goods and treason. Presumed dead, no body was ever recovered.'" Colby read before whistling softly. "Busy guy."

"Damn," Don scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"What?" David asked after glancing at the others.

"Remember when Mac brought up 'Archangel' during the Bander case? Six months after that network was taken down, there was an incident involving the Chief of Staff at the Memphis Naval base. He was trying to revive Archangel and he got mixed up with this crazy militia group based in Mississippi just over the Tennessee state line. It was run by Trask. Mac was in Memphis with a Lt. Singer on another case when someone started trying to kill her. Naturally, Rabb showed up. They teamed up with some of the Memphis personnel - " Don paused, looking at Megan and Colby, "Remember that big guy at the wedding? Lt. Bell? And the little guy dating the Princess? Tyler? It was those two along with that Major Perez. Anyway, they all wound up at the militia base. Admiral Chegwidden and Gunnery Sergeant Walters flew into Memphis and got the Bureau involved. While I was in New Mexico, I saw an after-action report from the agent in charge, Eddy Ramos. Eddy was a classmate of mine at Quantico. Nice guy, good agent but his reports have been known to put an insomniac to sleep. I couldn't put this down."

"So Trask actually escaped and he's blaming Rabb and MacKenzie for taking down his militia?" Colby asked.

"Something like that," Don nodded, "Rabb wound up in a knife fight with the man but it was Lt. Singer who shot and presumably killed Trask."

"Then shouldn't he be after Lt. Singer?" David asked, frowning a little.

Don shrugged, "He might have but Lt. Singer was murdered about eighteen months later. The guy that did it framed Rabb and nearly made it stick."

"So Trask focuses on Harm and Mac," Megan said thoughtfully. She looked at Don, "I can see Harm but why Mac? And why wait so long?"

"I have no idea but the guy was a real psychopath," Don replied. "There's no telling how far he'll go." He looked around at his squad, "Now we call the Embassy in Bacovia."

o o o o o

Wednesday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

2200 Local

Mac staggered as security officers rushed past her on their way to Gheorghe. She heard his initial protest get cut off a moment later and assumed they were hustling him out of the ballroom. That first intense light had felt like someone had stuck an icepick in her head and so she'd still had her eyes closed when the second flash had gone off. Now, while her vision was by no means clear, it was apparent she was seeing better than the majority of people in the room. Then the ballroom went completely dark setting off a number of shrieks from the crowd and increasing the sense of chaos and panic. Mac stayed where she was, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Meanwhile, Marius had reacted quickly. She could hear a number of voices throughout the ballroom exhorting the guests to remain calm and to stay in one place while they worked to restore the lighting. Those pleas went out the window when automatic gunfire erupted on the left side of the ballroom.

Mac hit the floor at the first burst. A moment later, she realized her mistake as the panicked crowd began to surge in her direction. She'd only made it halfway up when the first person collided with her, knocking them both back down. Faced with the very real threat of being trampled, Mac kept scrambling. She was hindered by her ballgown and the press of increasingly hysterical people. A gun battle was going on on the far side of the ballroom and the intruders were firing indiscriminately. Mac could hear slugs whizzing overhead. The emergency lighting finally kicked in and Mac sucked in a breath. They were red and it cast everything in a hellish glow, reminding her forcefully of her visions. She'd managed to regain her feet but was being buffeted and pummeled from all sides.

Beside her, a man gave a sudden strangled gasp and pitched into Mac, taking her down with him. It set off a frenzy as people attempted to escape in all directions. Mac curled herself into a ball, covering her head with her arms as she was alternately stumbled over and kicked by the fleeing people. Abruptly the area cleared and Mac relaxed a fraction, still somewhat dazed.

"Mac?" Maggie shot a worried look at her husband as she knelt down next to the Marine Colonel. Tink was standing in front, creating a small island of calm behind him. His size and menacing appearance sent what was left of the crowd scattering elsewhere.

"Colonel?" Tink shot a quick glance over his shoulder. The gunfire had slackened considerably in the last half minute or so. The lighting made it difficult to determine if she was hurt. The still body of a man lying nearby contributed to his trepidation. However, what he found most worrying was that Commander Rabb was nowhere in sight.

Mac groaned softly, pulling her head out from her arms and rolling onto her back. Blinking slowly, she recognized Maggie hovering over her and smiled a little, "Hey, you okay?"

Maggie gave her an exasperated look, "That's my line. You were the one caught in the stampede. Are you hurt?" She reached out and took hold of Mac's elbow, helping the brunette sit up.

"I'm okay, mostly bruises I think," Mac gave the younger woman a wan smile and then transferred it to Bell as he looked over his shoulder again, "Thank you, Tink."

Maggie was staring at her hand, "Umm, Mac? This is blood."

"That's not my - ," Mac winced a little as she flexed her arm. She looked down, "It's just a scratch. Help me up, please?"

Maggie dutifully gave Mac a hand up. The Marine Colonel squinted around the room, "Any idea what the hell is going on? Have you seen anybody else? Ow," Mac added as Maggie tied the handkerchief Tink had handed over, around her arm.

"I don't know, ma'am," Tink kept his eyes moving, constantly assessing the situation. The gunfire had died completely and a sort of dazed calm was settling in. He had to believe that the Bacovian security forces had prevailed. He gestured towards the side where the majority of the crowd was huddled, "Let's head over there and see who we can find." Suiting action to words, Tink started moving, clearing a path for the two women behind him.

Mac kept glancing from side to side as she followed Tink, a knot of worry growing. Where was Harm? It was difficult to see very far and Mac determinedly told herself that that was the reason she hadn't spotted him yet. He'd been with Carol so security would have converged quickly. What the hell was going on? For all the seemingly indiscriminate shooting that had gone on, there didn't seem to be an excessive amount of casualties. If it had been terrorists, wouldn't a grenade or two have made more sense? Then there was the matter of how they'd managed to pull this off. Marius was good at his job. There was any number of high-ranking foreign dignitaries so he'd had to coordinate with the security forces of other countries - had one of them betrayed the rest? It had to have been an inside job. Mac kept scanning the area. Where the hell was Harm?

They made it to the fringes of the crowd. Those on the outskirts shrank away as Tink approached, obviously frightened of the huge man. Mac moved up alongside of him, worried that a security officer might shoot first and ask questions later. Maggie was obviously having the same thoughts as she moved to his other side. Gunny Walters appeared out of the group, Robyn right behind him. Mac was relieved to see Frank and Trish following behind Robyn. Their relief was evident, too, when they saw her next to Tink.

"Sarah! Are you alright?" Trish was half a step faster in reaching her than Frank. Even as Mac was nodding, Trish's eyes widened at the sight of the blood-stained handkerchief wrapped around her upper arm, "Oh my god, you're hurt!" She started to reach for Mac when Frank's hand on her arm, stopped her. Turning her head, she gave him a confused look.

"Not now," Frank murmured quietly. He had seen what she had not. This wasn't Sarah, their brand new daughter-in-law, this was Lt. Colonel MacKenzie about to get a sit-rep from her troops.

Mac looked at Gunny, keeping a tight hold on her emotions, "Have you seen anyone else?"

"No, ma'am," Gunny shook his head while continuing to scan the area.

"All right," Mac swept the room one more time, swallowing a worried sigh, "All right. We need to get our civilians to a protected area, find the rest of our people," she turned a hard gaze to both Walters and Tink, "and then find out what the hell has happened."

Both men nodded and Gunny Walters pointed to his right, "There's a series of alcoves over there. It's out of the way, at least." He glanced at Tink before looking back to Mac, "And, with a little time, I could probably scare up a weapon or two."

"Sounds good. Gunny, you take point. Tink and I will bring up the rear," Mac gestured for him to start moving. The sooner they got away from the milling and still slightly panicked crowd, the happier she'd be. She fell in with Tink as the Gunny led their small group towards the area he'd pointed out. They made it there without incident and Mac felt some small sense of relief. It was coupled, however, with a growing worry. She still hadn't spotted Harm, Pick or any of the Dzuricks and, although the shooting seemed to have stopped, there was a palpable tension in the air.

Facing the Burnetts, Robyn and Maggie, Mac smiled reassuringly, "You should be safe here. Tink will stay to keep an eye on things while Gunny and I see if we can find out what's going on."

"Ma'am? Wouldn't it be better if you stayed here with Lt. Bell? Your arm - ", Walters offered in as respectful tone as he could manage. He didn't think she'd go for it, but he had to try. He'd noticed Harm's absence as well. If, God forbid, the Commander had been killed in the cross-fire, he didn't want Mac to be the one to find him.

"I appreciate your concern but I need to go with you," Mac replied, glancing at the rest of the group. She could tell that Trish was biting her tongue. "A lot of the Bacovian security and a number of the guests only speak Russian. You'll need me to translate."

"Yes, ma'am," Walters took a deep breath. Turning to his wife, he gave her a quick hug, nodding at her whispered, 'Be careful.' He turned back and waited as Mac received her own careful hugs from the Burnetts. With one last 'keep them safe' to Tink, Mac and Walters headed back into the chaos. It didn't take long to attract the attention of one of Marius' security people. Fortunately, it was someone she and Gunny Walters knew.

"Vlad," Mac greeted him, speaking in Russian, while eyeing the automatic weapon he was carrying, "What's happened? Is the royal family okay?"

The security officer stared at her for a few seconds before turning abruptly, "Come with me," he said over his shoulder. Mac and Walters exchanged a quick worried glance before hurrying after him. They skirted around the fringes of the crowd. Mac noted that the panic was all but gone now and shock was settling in. There were few medical personnel on scene, which wasn't really surprising. It would take time for emergency services to make it past the gauntlet of security. When it became obvious Vlad was leading them out of the ballroom, Mac could feel the knot in her stomach growing larger.

Turning left as they exited the ballroom, Vlad hurried down the hallway a short ways before turning right up a narrow corridor. Holding his weapon off to the side, he identified himself to the two palace guards who were pointing assault rifles at the three. They lowered their weapons but Mac could easily see the angry suspicion on their faces. The knot in her stomach took another twist. Something was horribly wrong. They followed Vlad into the room and stopped dead.

o o o o o

Wednesday,

FBI HQ

Los Angeles, CA

1238 Local

Don put the handset back down its base and swore quietly under his breath. He looked up to find Megan, Colby and David watching him. Don leaned back as he rubbed a hand through his hair, "We were too late. Something's already gone down."

"What?" Megan frowned worriedly.

"I don't know," Don responded, scowling irritably at his phone. "Bacovia's in an uproar but actual details are few and far between. The palace where the main celebration was taking place is in lockdown and our Ambassador is there. His staff can't get through to him yet. I can't get hold of any security at the palace either."

"What about Harm and Mac?" Megan asked, exchanging a look with Colby.

"No word," Don drummed his fingers on the desk, before leaning forward towards his computer, "The head of Bacovian security, Zali? Didn't I hear from someone at the reception that he's dating Carol Dzurick's personal secretary, Elizabeth Parker? Maybe we can get hold of him through her."

"Worth a shot," David agreed. He turned back to his computer and began typing quickly.

Ian appeared in the elevator just then and headed for Eppes' team. He eyed them as he got closer, "What's wrong?"

"There's been some sort of incident at the coronation party in Bacovia." Megan said tightly while staring at her computer, scanning news sources, "There's nothing about it in the media yet."

"Bacovia's probably not a hotbed of news on a good day," Ian snorted. "Think it's that Ezekiel guy starting something?"

"Trask," Colby spoke up, while also scanning his computer for any information. He looked up to see Ian staring at him, "The Rev. John Philip Trask, aka Michael Ezekiel, was the leader of some wacko militia group in northern Mississippi. Rabb and MacKenzie got mixed up with him somehow, about five years ago or so. The JAG called in the Bureau and we took the militia down. They thought Trask was killed in the fighting but never recovered his body. Looks like he survived and he's got unfinished business with Harm and Mac."

Ian scowled as he looked back at Don, "Then how the hell do I fit in the picture? I've never met this guy."

"You have a connection with Rabb and MacKenzie," Megan offered, leaning back in her chair. "Carson Bander."

"Who had no connection to Trask," Ian retorted, raising his hands in exasperation.

"What about Rashnu?" Don pointed out, "They're a private detective agency with a reputation for getting the job done, no matter what. What if they're after you, Mac and Harm because of Bander?"

"Threetrails," Ian said flatly. "She could have hired them, but how would she have known that Rabb and MacKenzie had a history with the head guy?"

"Maybe she didn't," Megan answered. "It's detective agency, not a mercenary group and that subcontractor, Letiro, claimed he was only supposed to be watching and reporting. What if she wanted surveillance, just happened to go to this Ezekiel/Trask guy and now he's gone rogue on her?"

"Making Rabb and MacKenzie two of the unluckiest people in the world," Ian retorted. He folded his arms, "So why now? He's head of a detective agency. He could have tracked either one of them down before this. It's not like they're low-profile."

"Who knows?" Don frowned, "The guy's not playing with a full deck."

"Or he was waiting for a sign from God," Colby threw in, gaining the others' attention. "'Rashnu' is the Persian god of Justice and Judgement. Mac's Iranian on her mother's side. Think that's a coincidence?"

"And Michael is the name of an Archangel," Megan added.

Colby nodded, pointing at his screen, "The Archangel of Protection, Strength and Truth. Ezekiel is an archangel of Death and Transformation. I kind of doubt this was a random alias. This guy sounds like he's all about revenge of biblical proportions."

"Yeah, and if Threetrails came to him to spy on Harm and Mac, he's going to think God's finally telling him to take out those two." Megan frowned worriedly. "I don't think causing an international incident would faze this guy."

They all shut up when David held up a hand, his other holding the handset to his ear, "Hello? Elizabeth Parker? This is Special Agent David Sinclair with the FBI… yes, ma'am… Miss Parker… ma'am, please… yes, I know… What?… ma'am, I think I have some information that could help. I need to talk to Mr. Zali." He was silent for a minute or so and then his eyebrows rose, "Mr. Zali… yes, sir - sir, we believe the man responsible for this is a John Philip Trask... No, I'm not sure why he'd do that. He has a history with Rabb and MacKenzie. Would you hold for just a moment?" David turned towards Don, his eyes wide, "Don, there was an attack at the coronation party. They've got dead, wounded and Rabb and Carol Dzurick, the Queen Mother, are missing."

"What?" Don straightened in his chair, "That doesn't make sense."

"It might," Megan countered. She turned to David, "Where was the Colonel when the attack started?" She waited while he asked, tapping her fingers impatiently on the desk.

Finally David lowered the phone again, "She was dancing with the former King, Gheorghe Dzurick. What's that got to do with Trask grabbing the Queen Mother?"

"A lot," Don answered grimly, having realized what Megan was on to. He caught an answering nod from Megan and Colby. Ian and David both looked mystified. "Carol Dzurick could be Mac's sister. They're nearly the same height, same build and same hair color. If Mac was with Gheorghe, then it's possible that Carol was with Rabb... "

"And they grabbed her, thinking she was Colonel MacKenzie. Oh boy," David turned back to the phone.

Wednesday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

2220 Local

Pick turned when he heard the door open and stepped towards Mac and Dubby, anger and worry evident on his face. His uniform jacket was off, his shirt front stained with blood, "Ma'am, Gunny, I'm glad you're here." He shot a glance over his shoulder, "Nicky and Cat were both wounded. Cat's not life-threatening but Nicky's critical. They're going to airlift him to a trauma facility in the capitol."

Both Mac and Dubby stared at him in open-mouthed shock before looking towards the knot of people in the corner. Shaking her head slightly, Mac looked back at Pick, "Mo and El?"

"Scared, angry, worried," Pick scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Neither was hurt, thank god. They'll go with Nicky and Cat to the hospital." He trailed off, looking over his shoulder.

Mac and Dubby exchanged looks. "What else?" Mac asked softly.

Pick stepped a little closer, lowering his voice, "Gheorghe has taken charge but I've never seen him quite like this. He's beyond furious. Not even Daniel is getting through to him." He looked over his shoulder again, dropping his voice even more, "Carol's missing. They believe she was the target. Bacovia has closed its borders."

"Oh my god, why? She and Gheorghe were retiring. Why go after her now?" Mac paled suddenly, "Oh God, Harm was standing with Carol when Gheorghe asked me to dance." She started to tremble as she turned an anguished look at Dubby, "What if he was still with her? He wouldn't have let anyone take her without a fight. Oh my God, my visions... "

"Ma'am," Pick interrupted, "There's no sign of Commander Rabb either. They might have taken him, too. Security and the Royal Bacovian Police are already searching the palace grounds and the immediate area."

"That doesn't make sense," Dubby frowned. "Why would they grab the Commander? He's a lot more dangerous to their plans. Why complicate everything?"

"I don't know," Pick shrugged helplessly, "All I know for sure is that no one has seen him since the attack."

Mac took a breath, trying to quell the deep-seated panic. This couldn't be happening, couldn't be true. She exhaled slowly, rubbing her forehead. Now was not the time for emotional meltdowns even if all she wanted to do was to sink to the floor and give in to the anguish. Somewhere in the midst of the turmoil, was a cold little ember of rage. Mac closed her eyes focusing on that, coaxing it forward. This is what she needed right now - a cold, calculating rage as opposed to the out-of-control inferno that she wanted. Ice-cold would help her focus.

"Colonel?"

Mac turned to see Liz Parker standing behind them, looking nervous. She took a step towards the woman, "Liz? Are you alright? Pick's told us what happened."

"Would you come with me, please?" Liz shot a quick look towards Gheorghe before focusing again on Mac.

Mystified, Mac glanced from Dubby to Pick before nodding, "Of course."

Liz didn't waste any time. As soon as the three agreed, she turned and hurried from the room. Mac, with one more look at the two men, strode quickly after her. Dubby followed and Pick, after a brief hesitation, joined the Gunnery Sergeant. Once out in the corridor, Liz waited for the trio to catch up and then quickly led them back to the main hallway. From there, she headed to a doorway not far from the grand ballroom. Tapping twice, she opened the door and walked in, gesturing for everyone to follow.

Once inside, Mac stopped in surprise, "Daniel?" The small, rotund advisor was the last person she expected to see. She would have thought he'd have been glued to Gheorghe's side.

Daniel stepped forward, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable, "We have a problem, Colonel." He flushed slightly at the incredulous looks he got from the three. "It's not just the attack on the royal family - and all that that implies." Daniel shifted, glancing away for a moment before taking a deep breath, "Gheorghe has taken control."

Mac shared a look with Pick and Gunny before giving a mystified shrug, "And? I don't understand."

"He's not in the line," Daniel was looking more like himself - acerbic.

"What?" Mac could only stare at the little man. Apparently, she was missing something obvious.

"The line of succession! From Queen Margarete, it goes to Princess Natalya Moira, then to Prince Nicolas and then to Princess Christina Elena. Gheorghe has usurped the throne!" Daniel waved his hands.

Dubby scratched the back of his head, "But he was King right up until this morning and he's not planning on keeping it, is he? I don't understand what the problem is."

Daniel glared at him, "How would you feel if something happened to your current President and the former President stepped in and took charge?"

"I see your point," Mac interrupted as patiently as she could. None of this was helping her discover what had happened to Harm, "What I don't understand is what we - ", she paused to gesture at Pick, Dubby and herself, "- have to do with any of it. We're not citizens of your country and Gheorghe is more likely to listen to you than to us."

Daniel turned to look at her and Mac was surprised and a bit wary at the controlled anger in his expression. He took a deep breath, "John Phillip Trask."

It took her a moment but then Mac stiffened while Dubby and Pick stared at the little man in shock. "The man's dead," Dubby finally said. "Has been for nearly five years."

"Apparently not," came a voice from behind them.


	16. Chapter 16

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have a wonderful time with family and friends. To those of you who have to work - thank you for the sacrifice (willing or unwilling). My brother is an ER doctor and gets to work holidays, too. This year, he worked Thanksgiving and a 12 hour shift yesterday. He's off today but back for another long shift tomorrow. We had snow yesterday - 4 inches worth, which is getting to be an unusual occurrence out here in eastern Missouri. My sister and I were going to clean house and do some baking, but it was packing snow, and well, we decided to act our age... check it out. .

Chapter 16

Wednesday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

2230 Local

Mac whirled around to see an angry Marius standing in the doorway. She took an unsteady step towards him, "What are you talking about?" Her head was spinning. Trask? How could that be? This nightmare was only growing worse.

Marius glared at the woman in front of him. One of his worst nightmares was happening right now and to find out that it had been instigated because of the JAG officers had shredded what remained of his temper. Even worse was the certainty that the royal family had been betrayed by people within the castle. Had this been a century or two ago, heads would literally be rolling - starting with his. According to the FBI, this Trask was an expert at manipulating others. He heard Liz clear her throat and glanced over at her. She folded her arms and glared at him while tipping her head towards MacKenzie. The Colonel had paled noticeably at the news that Trask was still alive. With an effort, he moderated his tone a little, "I've been on the phone with the FBI in LA. They were trying to reach the American Ambassador to pass along a warning. Trask is alive and living under an alias. They believed that he might target the coronation celebration."

Mac shook her head, "What? Why? He couldn't possibly - " she stopped, shooting out a hand to grab Dubby's shoulder, her knees suddenly weak, "Harm... he wasn't after Carol, he was after Harm. Oh dear god." Her gaze shot around the room as she inhaled deeply. She couldn't seem to get enough oxygen.

Dubby threw an arm around her, "Ma'am, you need to sit down." He led her to a small couch and carefully lowered her down. That she hadn't argued or resisted told him how badly she was shaken. He couldn't blame her, knowing the ordeal she'd been through at the hands of that lunatic. Once he was sure she was settled, Dubby stood up to face Marius and Daniel. He wasn't surprised to find Pick beside him, the two men forming a barrier between Mac and the Bacovians.

Pick took the lead, his dangerously soft voice mirroring the anger and tension in his stance, "Tell us what you know."

Daniel blinked a little in surprise. This was a side of normally affable Lt. Tyler he hadn't seen before. He glanced up at Marius, deciding to let the security chief take the lead.

"A Special Agent David Sinclair called. They couldn't reach the American Ambassador so they tried for me," Marius was growing calmer although his expression remained hard, "Does the name Drew Letiro mean anything or Rashnu Enterprises?"

Pick and Dubby glanced at each other and shook their heads. Turning they looked down at Mac. "Ma'am?" Pick asked quietly. She pulled her head out of her hands and shook it, still looking shell-shocked.

Marius frowned, "Letiro had apparently been contracted by Rashnu Enterprises to watch Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie and FBI Agent Ian Edgerton. Rashnu is a private investigation firm out of LA that's headed by Trask."

"Edgerton?" Dubby frowned, "There was a sniper by the name of Edgerton in Afghanistan. The man was a legend. The Taliban thought he was the Devil Incarnate."

"That's him - one of the top four snipers in the world," Mac said faintly. Trask was alive and in LA? Why hadn't he tried something then? With all their energy and attention fixed on Carson Bander, it would have been child's play for the man.

Dubby stared at her in surprise, "And they were trying to spy on him? That's nuts."

Mac snorted, "That's Trask. He's a charismatic loon and great at making other people do things that are too dangerous to try himself." She raked an unsteady hand through her hair, "It's been five damn years. I thought he was dead. I don't understand."

"Why did the FBI call?" Pick asked, frowning. "How did they make the jump from finding Trask was alive to deciding he was going to attack here? He's had five years to plan some sort of revenge and it would have been a lot easier to go after Commander Rabb in the States. It doesn't make sense."

"The FBI had a theory about that, too," Marius replied, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "They think he was waiting for a sign from God and finally got it."

"I don't care if he received a sign from Ded Moroz!" Daniel interrupted suddenly, "We must stop him and rescue the Queen Mother - and Commander Rabb," he added with a look at Mac.

"But why take Carol?" Dubby asked, "If he's after the Commander, why take one of the few people guaranteed to make the entire country start chasing you?"

Mac's head came up, her eyes widening, "Because Carol was with Harm and it's not Trask. It's whoever he's hired - and they think they've got me."

Marius nodded grimly, "That's what the FBI said." He stared intently at Mac, "And what I need to know is what they'll do when they realize their mistake. Will Trask harm her? Would he let her go?"

Mac raised her hands helplessly, "I don't know. He's crazy." She glanced away for a moment before continuing reluctantly, "Three of his men tried to rape me, Tink stopped them and Trask showed up. He had two of them killed right there - not because of the attempted rape but because they lied about what they'd tried to do. Then he turned around and politely invited me to lunch. The man's capable of anything." Her expression suddenly hardened and she glared at Marius fiercely, "Trask wouldn't risk being in Bacovia. He'll be waiting somewhere outside the borders. We have to rescue Harm and Carol before they reach him."

"The borders are closed and the palace is locked down. We're searching the buildings and grounds. They couldn't have gotten far. We'll find them," Marius declared firmly. His people were well-trained and had reacted quickly. They'd even managed to kill one of the kidnappers during the firefight.

Mac went still for a long moment before looking at Marius again, her stomach clenching at the sudden certainty, "They're already gone. They're heading for the mountains - southeast."

Marius straightened in surprise, "What?"

Daniel stepped forward, glaring at her, "You don't know that. You can't know that."

Mac stared back before rising and turning to Marius, "He's right. I can't prove it and I won't ask you to give up your own search. All I do ask is that you allow me to search on my own. I can't sit here and do nothing."

She held her breath while Marius stared at her silently. Mac relaxed a little when he finally nodded, "I'll have Vlad escort you to the perimeter."

He didn't say anything else and after a moment Mac realized this was all she was going to get. She stiffened somewhat while Pick and Gunny exchanged glances. "Thank you," she said at last. Marius nodded tightly once more before turning and swiftly leaving the room, Daniel at his heels.

"That went well," Gunny said finally. He looked over at Mac, "You do know you're not going anywhere without me?"

"Or me," Pick added.

Mac ran a hand through her hair, "I can't ask that of either of you. You know how dangerous Trask is."

"Which is why we're not going to let you go alone. That's just foolish... ma'am," Walters tacked on the courtesy, sharing a look with Pick. "You can't take him on by yourself."

"I wasn't planning to confront Trask," Mac's tone bordered on acerbic. The stress was taking its toll on her composure. "I want to find Harm and Carol before they get anywhere near that lunatic."

"Colonel?"

Mac, Walters and Pick all turned to see Liz Parker standing near the door. Mac blinked, surprised and a little dismayed that she hadn't noticed that Liz had stayed after bringing them to Marius. If she was going to track down Harm and Carol without being caught by Trask, she needed to get her head in the game and pay attention to the details around her.

"Colonel," Liz repeated, stepping away from the wall where she'd been standing, "Can you do it? Can you find them?"

Mac stared at the woman, sudden doubt swirling around inside. Could she? Did she really know that the kidnappers were escaping through the mountains of southeastern Bacovia or was it wishful thinking on her part? Mac took a deep breath and then, just as suddenly, the uncertainty vanished. She looked at Liz, "Yes."

It was Liz's turn to take a deep breath, "Okay. Come with me." With those words, Liz turned on her heel and headed out of the room. Mac shared a look with Gunny Walters and Pick before hurrying after her. They made it out into the hallway and stopped. Liz was in the middle of a heated argument with Vlad. Mac's eyebrows rose a little. For some reason, she'd never thought about Liz being fluent in Russian. Despite her years spent in Bacovia with Carol, Elizabeth Parker had never lost her soft southern accent. Mac's eyebrows rose further as she began to listen to exactly what Liz was saying. Impolite was the most charitable thing that could be said. She heard Pick exhale softly and glanced over at him.

He rolled an eye in her direction while still keeping most of his attention on Liz. "Mo and Nicky have been teaching me Russian," he said softly. "Is she saying what I think she's saying?"

"Oh yeah," Mac nodded, keeping her voice down. Liz seemed to be winning the argument and Mac didn't want to distract her. A few minutes later, Vlad pivoted and stomped off down the hallway.

Liz looked over her shoulder at Mac as she started in the opposite direction of Vlad, "Come on."

Exchanging one more look between them, the trio hurried down the hallway. Mac moved up alongside of Liz, "Can we get the rest of our people and get back to our rooms? I need to know that they'll be safe." She gestured at herself, "And this isn't exactly appropriate for hiking in the mountains."

Liz glanced over her shoulder, "Certainly." Saying that she veered towards a dimly lit hallway. Mac was right behind, all senses on alert. Something about the hallway was bothering her and she wasn't sure if it had anything to do with the narrowness.

They were nearly to the end when Gunny Walters called out quietly, "Hold up."

Tensing, Mac turned around to see Walters crouch down and pick something up next to the wall, "What is it?" Grimly, he held out his hand. In it was a small medal. Mac sucked in a breath, "That's Harm's." Gingerly she plucked it out of Walters' grasp. She stared at it for a moment before gripping it tightly. Turning to Liz, Mac tipped her head in the direction they were heading, "This comes out by the ballroom?"

Liz nodded slowly, "It's one of the servants' corridors. There's a series of them throughout the castle. It gives them access to the public areas without being seen en route."

"Any of them lead to exits?" Walters asked.

Again Liz nodded, looking somewhat stricken. She pointed back the way they'd come, "This one picks up on the other side of the main hallway and continues to the kitchens. There's a small loading dock for food deliveries. They could get out that way."

Pick looked up and down the corridor, "So that's probably how they did it. The firefight was a diversion."

Mac nodded grimly, starting up the corridor again, "Come on, they've already got a lead on us." Liz fell in beside her with the men bringing up the rearguard. There was a slight delay getting back into the ballroom but Liz once again forced the issue. It didn't take long to gather their group and get them moving. Mac held off with explanations of what had happened. Trish and Frank deserved some privacy when they found out the extent of the catastrophe that had struck the coronation celebration. Mac was also pretty sure they weren't going to be happy with her plans either and she wanted to put off the inevitable arguments for as long as possible. Once they made it to their rooms, both Liz and Pick left. Mac couldn't blame either one. Liz had used her position with Carol to bludgeon through security and would undoubtedly be paying the price once Marius found out. And despite Pick's statement earlier about accompanying her, she knew he had other demands on his time. No doubt he would soon be on his way to the trauma center to stay with Mo and El while Nicky and Cat were being treated. The sisters would need his staunch support.

o o o o o

"Oh dear god," Trish turned into her husband's embrace.

Frank cleared his throat, "You're sure it's this Trask fellow? I don't understand."

Mac nodded, knowing it was better that they heard the news from her and not a stranger. At the same time, she begrudged every moment. "The LA FBI figured it out. Don Eppes wouldn't make that sort of mistake. His team contacted Marius Zali after they couldn't reach the American ambassador." She eased back a step, turning a little to address the others as well, "You'll all be safe here. The palace has been secured."

Trish's head came up and she stared at Mac, "We'll be safe? What about you?"

Mac took a deep breath, "I'm going to find Harm and Carol."

"What? You can't - ," Trish protested sharply before dwindling off at the expression on Mac's face.

"I can and I will," Mac's voice was cold. "None of this would have happened if Harm and I hadn't been here. It's my responsibility."

"She won't be alone." Gunny Walters stepped forward. "Trask needs to be stopped, once and for all."

Tink moved forward as well, "I'm coming, too."

Mac immediately focused on him, shaking her head, "Tink, I appreciate it but no. Trask has a bigger bone to pick with you. He'll kill you if he sees you. You know that."

"Tom - ," Maggie stepped towards him, her voice faltering at the expression on his face as he turned to look at her. Whatever argument she'd been prepared to make died in her throat. She knew she'd been lucky so far to have him stationed stateside when so many were deploying. She took a deep breath. This was the other side of coin for marrying into the military. "You be careful, you hear?"

Tink nodded as he gathered her into a hug, "Always." He looked at Mac, "With you or following behind, I'm going. Ma'am."

Realizing the two men were going to accompany her, no matter what, Mac slowly nodded, "All right, thank you."

"How soon will you leave?" Robyn finally spoke up. She had an arm around her husband's waist. She couldn't even imagine what she'd do if someone had kidnapped him. However, what she did know was that if it had been Dubby who'd been taken, Mac would still be doing her damnedest to get him back. They were Marines, it was what they did.

"As soon as we can get changed and find transportation," Mac answered. She stiffened in surprise when Frank and Trish both stepped in and gave her a hug.

"You find Harm and come back safely," Trish murmured firmly. She and Frank moved back, exchanging glances. Mac had been rigid with tension. They watched as she nodded quickly before pivoting and marching out the door, heading for her and Harm's rooms. Once she'd left, they turned to look at Gunny Walters and Tink. Frank spoke first, "Thank you both. I - we - know you don't have to do this."

Walters nodded, starting for the door as well, Tink right behind him. "We'll find the Commander and Carol, don't worry."

The two Marines walked out, leaving the Burnetts, Maggie and Robyn Walters. Maggie ran a hand nervously through her hair, looking at the other three, "Now what?"

Robyn looked at her and then the Burnetts. She'd been through countless deployments during their marriage. This was no different. "Now," she answered with a deep sigh, "Now we wait."

o o o o o

Stepping inside the suite they'd been given, Mac closed the door and leaned against it with her head bowed. Ever since that first blinding light had hit, she'd been keeping a death-grip on her emotions and it was getting harder and harder to maintain the facade. She drew in a deep shuddering breath and slid slowly down the door until she was crouched on the floor, burying her face in her hands. She stayed that way for ninety-four seconds before taking another deep breath and lifting her head. Mac struggled to her feet and headed determinedly to the bedroom. There was no more time for pathetic self-pity. She had to find Harm before that maniac Trask got hold of him.

Eight minutes and thirty-eight seconds later, Mac moved to the door. After pausing a few seconds to listen, she cautiously opened it and peered around. Satisfied there was no one in sight, she stepped out into the hallway. After looking around again, she started towards Gunny Walters' room. She was halfway torn about slipping out without either man. The dispassionate Marine officer said take them and improve the odds. The rest of her was terrified she was leading them to their deaths. While she could and would pay any price to rescue Harm, she had no right to risk Dubby and Tink that way. Unfortunately, she also knew them well enough to know that they'd chase her down if she tried leaving them behind.

She was almost to Dubby's room when he stepped out into the corridor. He was dressed as she was, in dark layers, hiking boots and carrying a backpack. Knowing how scenic the mountainous Bacovia was, the couples had come prepared to hike and camp overnight. Carol had taken the liberty of providing equipment for everyone, leaving it in each room. Mo and Nicky had been planning to play tour guide. Gunny reached forward and took Mac's backpack from her, slinging it over a shoulder. A few moments later, Tink appeared silently in the dimly lit hall. Dubby acknowledged his arrival with a tip of the head and turned to Mac, "Where do we start?"

"The kitchens," Mac answered quietly. Knowing it was probably futile, she tried once more to dissuade them, "You don't have to do this, either of you. This is between me, Harm and Trask."

"Yes, ma'am," Dubby answered dutifully, "Begging your pardon, Colonel, but we're wasting time."

"All right," Mac gave up and turned towards the kitchens. Dubby was right, they were wasting time. Quietly, they made their way along the various passageways. By unspoken agreement, they kept to the less traveled areas, doing their best to avoid contact with security. Although Marius had given Mac permission to leave the castle, the situation with Gheorghe was volatile enough that she wasn't willing to take any chances. When they couldn't avoid being seen, Mac moved with determined purpose, going with that adage that people wouldn't bother you if you looked like you knew where you were going. It also helped that Tink and Dubby provided a formidable obstacle to being idly questioned. Ten minutes later, they arrived at the kitchens. There they ran into their first hurdle in the form of two palace guards.

Discreetly gesturing Dubby and Tink to stay back, Mac approached the two men. They regarded her warily, weapons at the ready. Moving slowly and presenting a relaxed demeanor, Mac nodded to them, sliding automatically into Russian. "I'm Colonel MacKenzie-Rabb. Has Marius Zali contacted you about me?" She hid a sigh of relief when one of them nodded back. "Have you talked to anyone in the kitchens yet?"

They glanced at each other and one of them nodded again. "No one heard the shooting," offered the taller guard, waving a hand by way of explanation, "The walls are very thick."

"But there was a delivery a little while ago, wasn't there?" Mac asked. She'd been considering how Trask's people would have pulled this off. If it had been up to her, this was the area she would have exploited.

The two exchanged looks. "Yes, with the coronation and so many extra guests, the food deliveries have tripled."

Mac frowned, "So this was the usual company making deliveries?"

Again, one of the guards nodded. Mac could see he was beginning to understand the reasoning behind her questions. She paused for a moment. Her next question was sure to upset both men, "Was there a palace guard on duty at the loading dock?"

The other guard who'd been silent up to this point, sputtered loudly as he drew himself up in outrage. The tall guard put out a hand, gesturing for him to be silent and the shorter man subsided, obviously still annoyed. The tall guard looked at Mac, "Yes, he said everything was normal." He shrugged a little, "We took over and he said he would check the perimeter outside the dock."

"You haven't heard from him since?"

The guards exchanged looks and reluctantly shook their heads, "It takes time to be thorough," the first guard added defensively.

Mac asked softly, "Has he been a member of the Palace Guard long?"

"Years!" the shorter guard snapped, "He would never betray the King!"

Mac turned to look at him, "What about the Queen?" These days being an American was a liability. Carol didn't broach the subject often but Mac knew there were some who felt that Bacovia was practically a puppet of the US government. Having Cat, who was born on American soil, ascend the throne had no doubt exacerbated the situation. It was just the sort of opening Trask would use to his advantage.

"What do you want to do?" The first guard interjected, obviously attempting to prevent further argument from erupting between his partner and the woman standing in front of them. He was the more pragmatic of the two. While he didn't particularly like what she was implying, he was enough of a realist to know that there was a good chance her assumptions were correct. Bad enough that this attack on the royal family had occurred on his watch, if a member of the guard had betrayed them, he wanted that man caught and punished.

Mac's expression hardened, "I want to find my husband and the Queen Mother. WIll you let me leave the palace with my men?"

Raising a hand to forestall the protest from the other guard, the first guard raised an eyebrow, "And what will you do if you find them? You're unarmed. They could kill you, your husband and Her Highness." He had to force himself not to back up a step from the chilling look that she gave him.

Mac's voice was a low, ominous growl, "Not if I get them first."

She and the guard locked eyes for a long moment and then he pivoted sideways, "Go." Nodding, Mac turned and gestured for Dubby and Tink to move forward. Once they were past, she started to follow only to have the first guard put a hand on her arm. Turning, her eyes widened slightly and she tensed when she saw his other hand on his sidearm. She was completely surprised when he pulled it free and handed it to her butt first. He shrugged a little, "Now you are not unarmed."


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you all for the nice reviews. Hope everyone enjoyed their holidays. If any of you live on the east coast and got that blizzard, you have my sympathy. That was some storm and I'm grateful we didn't get it that bad here in the Midwest. Two feet of snow is tough on the horses - not to mention the barn kitties. (It's not much fun to push wheelbarrow through, either.) Anyway, good luck if you're out that way and here's another chapter to curl up with. :-)

Chapter 17

Wednesday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

2320 Local

"Thank you," Mac ducked her head and hurried to catch up with Dubby and Tink, tucking the pistol into her waistband and pulling her sweatshirt over it. They were waiting for her at the entrance to the kitchen. By silent agreement, Mac led the way into the kitchens. She was immediately struck by the controlled chaos and the din it created. It was no wonder that no one in the kitchens had heard anything. They were completely focused on what they were doing. It was apparent the guards hadn't let them know what was happening. No doubt the servers who had been caught outside the kitchens had been detained wherever they were for security reasons so they hadn't been able to spread the word either.

They skirted along the edges, making their way to the back where the loading dock was. Entering the storage area, Mac saw a kitchen worker standing near a stack of crates. Before she could ask, Dubby and Tink moved quickly past her and bracketed the man. Stuck between the two large and intimidating men, the worker turned frightened eyes toward Mac and began babbling in Russian as she walked up, "Who are you? What do you want? I haven't done anything!"

Mac tipped her head to the side, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. She folded her arms, deciding to bluff, "That's not what I heard." Picking up on her expression and tone of voice, Tink and Dubby moved in a little tighter, making the man cringe nervously.

"They're lying! It wasn't me!"

Mac stepped in closer, "Prove it." She had no idea how this man might be involved but it was obvious to them all that he was.

The man cowered even more. "All right but they made me. They threatened my wife, my children! I had no choice! I had to do what they said." He was practically curled into a ball, moaning in fear.

"Tell me what they said," Mac demanded coldly. She didn't like bullying someone so obviously terrified but time was of the essence. The man mumbled unintelligibly and she frowned, "What?" He mumbled again, slightly louder and Mac leaned in a little, "Say that again." The man flinched and didn't say anything and Mac bit back a sigh. She hadn't wanted to frighten him into complete silence. She glanced at Dubby with a shrug and started to straighten up. The man tensed, catching her eye, and she had a split-second before he suddenly exploded forward, the top of his head catching the side of her face. He drove himself at her, taking both of them to the floor. Tink and Dubby reacted an instant later, leaping forward to grab the man. Tink caught the flash of steel as he moved and his stomach clenched knowing he wasn't going to be able to stop what was about to happen.

A muffled bang surprised both Marines and the little man collapsed to the side, screaming in pain. Breathing heavily, Mac closed her eyes and let her head drop down to the ground. Her face was throbbing. God, how could she have been so stupid, falling for that ploy?

Dubby grabbed the man yanking him roughly away while Tink stopped next to Mac and dropped to his knees, "Ma'am? Did he cut you?" That she had somehow managed to acquire a pistol between their rooms and the kitchen didn't surprise him at all. The sound of pounding feet had Dubby looking up, while Tink palmed the pistol from where Mac had released it, quietly tucking it into his waistband before looking over his shoulder. The two guards burst into the storage area, automatic weapons at the ready. All four men froze staring at each other before the taller guard stepped forward and spoke rapidly in Russian. Dubby and Tink exchanged helpless looks. Frustrated, the guard pointed at the kitchen worker Mac had shot and repeated what he'd said before.

Equally frustrated, Dubby pointed at the knife just out of reach of the still-whimpering kitchen worker and then at Mac, "That little SOB tried to kill her. He's one of them." The guards stared at him blankly for a second before the tall guard barked an order at his partner. The shorter man immediately turned around and Dubby noticed for the first time that the entryway to the storage area was crowded with kitchen staff. They scattered as the guard moved towards them, waving a hand.

"Take it easy, ma'am."

Dubby turned back at the sound of Tink's voice and breathed a sigh of relief. The Colonel was sitting up, braced on one hand, her other hand held gingerly up to her face. As she turned her head towards the guards, he couldn't help wincing in sympathy. A gash had been opened up just under her cheekbone and there was no doubt she'd soon be sporting a colorful bruise as well. Fortunately, that seemed to be the worst of the damage. It didn't appear as if that bastard had gotten to her with his knife.

The tall guard looked as relieved as Dubby. "What happened here?" he asked Mac.

She pulled her hand away and gestured wearily at the kitchen worker, "He's part of the terrorist group. He helped them get in for the attack on the royal family and helped them get out. Zali needs to talk to him."

As one, both guards turned deadly stares towards the little man. He stared back, hands still clutching the wound to his leg. A moment later, he was frantically shaking his head as the guards advanced upon him.

"Give me a hand," Mac said quietly to Tink. "We can't get caught up in this." Tink nodded and effortlessly climbed to his feet, bringing Mac with him. She leaned against him for a second or two before pushing herself upright. She looked over at the guards, "May we go?"

"Yes. Go," the taller guard waved a hand, most of his attention still on the worker. The three Marines moved cautiously towards the loading dock doors, keeping half an eye on the guards in case they changed their minds.

Mac breathed a little easier once they were outside. The first obstacle had been overcome.

"Are you okay, Colonel?" Dubby asked quietly. He handed her a bandana he'd pulled out of his pocket.

"I'll live," Mac answered shortly, dabbing at the blood on her cheek. She stared into the darkness, "We need to get off the grounds and then see if we can hire or rent some sort of transport. The kidnappers aren't going to stop moving anytime soon." She walked to the edge of the dock and gingerly swung herself down. Dubby and Tink soon joined her. At a gesture from Mac, Dubby handed over her backpack and she shrugged into the harness. Tink and Dubby did the same and the three took a moment to adjust and balance the loads. Once they were ready, Mac led the way towards the perimeter of the palace grounds. She stayed in the middle of the road where they could be easily seen. As much as she would have preferred to avoid notice, it was safer to stay in plain sight. There was no telling how good the discipline was of the palace guard and it would be stupid to tempt fate by staying in shadows.

Halfway to the gates, her fears were realized. The trio was suddenly illuminated by the powerful beams of several flashlights while a voice ordered them to halt. Turning slowly towards the voice, Mac extended her hands out and away from her body to show she was unarmed. She saw in her peripheral vision that Dubby and Tink were doing the same thing. Mac stepped forward and a little to the side, hoping to take some of the attention off of the men. Tink was a threatening figure at the best of times, she didn't want anyone focusing on him when nerves were stretched taut. "I am Colonel MacKenzie-Rabb," she called, "Marius Zali has given permission for me and my men to leave the palace grounds."

The lights moved closer and a guard stepped forward. With a sharp jerk of his head, he indicated that they should follow. There really wasn't much choice. Mac and the others fell in behind. The guard led a brisk pace that Mac determinedly matched. Once they cleared the palace grounds, she promised herself to take a quick break. Her face was throbbing. They reached guardhouse and gate in quick order and then, to Mac's utter surprise, their escort practically threw the three Marines off the palace grounds. She'd been marshaling her arguments to get them past security, anticipating a lengthy debate.

"- 'and don't let the door hit you on the way out','" Dubby said softly, staring back at the guards. He turned to Mac, "Where to, ma'am?"

Mac pointed towards the distant glow of lights, "That way. That's Gronin. We need to scare up some transport to the mountains." She shivered a little, "We're running out of time."

Dubby eyed her, "Yes ma'am." As she led off, he shared a look with Tink. They needed to get her to slow down a little before she drove herself to collapse. Taking a blow to the head like that couldn't have been good. "Rearguard, Lieutenant," Dubby ordered softly. Hurrying, he marched past a startled Mac, "I'll take point, ma'am." His tone brooked no argument and to his relief, she acquiesced silently. They kept at a steady pace for the next fifteen minutes or so. Dubby was able to gradually slow it down without Mac noticing.

As they came up on an intersection, Dubby raised a hand, halting their progress. Mac and Tink stopped beside him. He moved them further into the shadows, his voice a whisper, "There's someone there." He shrugged out of his backpack, "Stay here, I'll check it out." Tink put out a hand as Dubby started to move past. At Dubby's questioning look, Tink slid the pistol out and handed it to him. Nodding once, the Gunny vanished into the darkness.

o o o o o

Wednesday,

Somewhere in Bacovia

2320 Local

Harm slowly became aware of a deep rumbling vibration. It felt like it was going right through him, aggravating the pain in his head and his leg. His knee already felt like it was on fire. He was folded nearly double with his hands bound behind him. Groaning, he tried to shift without much success.

"Harm? Harm, can you hear me?"

He groaned again as he fought his way back to consciousness. There was a warm presence jammed against his side. Where was he? What the hell had happened? "Mac?"

"Right here, just try to take it easy."

Harm frowned, forcing his eyes open. It didn't help much, wherever 'here' was, it was dark. Something else was wrong - beyond the obvious, of course. Mac didn't sound right. He twisted his head in the direction of her voice, wincing a bit, "Mac? Are you hurt?"

"A little banged up, nothing serious. What about you?"

Harm's frown deepened. Although his head was still foggy, Mac's voice was definitely wrong. The problem was, it was also familiar. What was going on? He took a breath, "My knee, my head. What happened?"

'Mac's' voice dropped, "You don't remember?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the pain in his head would lessen, "I remember the bright light before everything went out. Where are we?"

"A truck I think. They stuck us in some sort of crate. Harm, I heard shooting after they took us out of the ballroom," her voice shook.

"What?" Surprise and worry forced Harm's eyes open again as he tried to concentrate.

"I heard a lot of shooting - and screams. What if they killed everyone?"

"I don't know," Harm admitted. He was a little more awake and almost regretted it. His muscles were screaming from the tight position he was in. Panting a little from the pain, he tried to focus on Mac, "But that doesn't make much sense. If their mission was to kill everyone in the ballroom, they could have detonated a bomb instead of that light." The crate they were in bounced and slid abruptly before banging to a sudden stop. Harm bit his lip to keep from crying out. The impact had sent waves of agony radiating from his knee. Eyes watering, he wondered if they'd broken it when they hit him.

"Harm - ?"

"Yeah," Harm gasped, still wincing. God, he didn't know how much more he could take. He tried to ignore it, "It was probably a diversion. Make everyone think it was an attack on the royal family while they took us out." The crate bounced and jolted again, harder than before, and Harm passed out once again. He came to suddenly, shivering and gasping. Blinking, he realized he was soaking wet. A moment later, Harm also realized that the top of crate was open and he could see. He didn't have much time to contemplate this development. Two men appeared, yanked him out and dropped him on the floor.

Harm managed to twist enough to keep from landing on his bad knee and although he had his jaws clamped tight enough that his teeth hurt, a groan still escaped when he hit. Panting, he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to subside. He didn't get much of a chance to recover. A vicious kick to his side robbed him of breath and left him wheezing.

"Stop it, damn you! Leave him alone!"

The sound of a hand impacting flesh had Harm forcing his eyes open once again. "Don't touch her!," he snarled, twisting around. His eyes widened in shock a moment later. A disheveled Carol Dzurick was staring back at him. For split-second, they locked eyes and then Harm turned to glare at the man who'd slapped her, "Get away from her, you son of a bitch." It earned him a kick in the back from the man's partner. He barely had time to react to that when the first man reached down, grabbed a handful of his jacket and pulled him halfway up. Harm glared at him defiantly. He saw the fist pull back and tried to roll with it as it struck. It partially worked. The blow had him seeing stars but he didn't completely lose consciousness. The second one was worse. He could vaguely hear Carol yelling over the ringing in his head. When Harm blearily saw the fist pull back yet again, he knew he wouldn't be able to absorb it. If their goal was to beat him back into unconsciousness, they were about to succeed.

The fist never landed. A new voice, harsh with both anger and authority, cut through the air. The man holding Harm abruptly let go. The sudden jolt as he hit the floor was almost as bad as the punches he'd just taken and Harm could feel himself slipping away as he laid there. The shock of icy cold water hitting him in the face and chest had Harm spluttering awake. A hand grabbed his upper arm and roughly flipped him over on his stomach. Seconds later, a knife sliced through the rope around his wrists freeing his hands. Harm laid there, groaning. His shoulders and hands had long since gone numb and the sudden resumption of full circulation felt as if he was being stabbed by a thousand needles.

He was grabbed again and yanked over onto his back. The hand shifted from his arm to the front of his jacket, pulling him partway off the floor. Harm braced himself as best he could, waiting for the beating to start again. Instead, he received a stinging slap to the face while a voice in heavily accented English ordered him to wake up. Harm forced his eyes open, hoping to avoid any more blows. He stared up into the face of a large, dark-haired, bearded man. "You will change," the man ordered, releasing Harm's jacket and letting him drop.

He hit the floor with a grunt and laid there for a few seconds before blinking when a bundle of clothes landed on him.. They wanted him to change? He could barely move. Harm felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed, squeezing his eyes shut, again anticipating another beating. Instead, he heard Carol speaking angrily in Russian to their captors. There was a rumbling counterpoint in response and then, silence. Confused now, he pried open his eyes when Carol softly called his name. He blinked when he realized she was unbuttoning his jacket. "Carol?" he croaked hoarsely.

"Ssshhh, call me Mac," Carol leaned in closer, whispering urgently. "They think I'm Sarah. Can you help at all? We need to change into the clothes they gave us." He nodded slowly. She helped him sit up and brace against the crate they'd been in. Harm did the best he could, shrugging out of his dress mess jacket. Carol undid his tie but made him keep his shirt despite it being wet. At his questioning look, she glanced surreptitiously at their captors before whispering, "It will dry. The only way for them to escape with us is through the mountains. You'll need the extra layers." She helped him pull on a ratty, oversized sweater and added an old military jacket. The boots took more time as Carol tried to balance not hurting him with not annoying their captors. Finally, she handed him a wool cap.

Pulling it on, Harm watched as Carol moved to her own bundle of clothes. He scowled at the sudden interest on the faces of the two captors who'd been beating him. Carol noticed it as well and said something sharply in Russian. The two men grinned until a sharp rebuke from the third man had them sullenly turning around. Taking advantage of the respite, Carol moved quickly, sliding out of the ball gown and into the clothes she'd been given. They were several sizes too large. She rolled up the cuffs of the pants but left the sleeves. It would help keep her hands warm. The boots were another matter and she gestured at them while launching into another barrage of Russian. The man shrugged, pointing again at the boots and cutting Carol off with a few sharp words. She glowered at him before pulling them on. As soon as she was dressed, the man barked out more commands in Russian.

The other two men moved quickly to either side of Harm, grabbing his arms and yanking him roughly upwards. Still reeling from the beating earlier, he sagged between them, unable to stand. Carol watched him anxiously, unable to do much about it. The apparent leader had stepped forward and now had a firm hold of her. They moved towards the truck doors and Carol was horrified when the two men threw the Commander off the back to the ground below. With a strength that surprised even her, she wrenched herself free and charged forward. She barreled into one of the men with a force that snapped his head back, sending him flying out of the truck to sprawl on the ground not far from Harm. The remaining man stood gaping at her as she spun towards him. Carol never hesitated as she kicked him right between the legs, dropping him to the floor of the truck.

The sound of a gun bolt sliding back made her freeze and she slowly turned her head towards the third man. He was pointing a machine pistol at her and smiling, "I'm impressed, Colonel."

She drew herself up, eyeing him coldly, "I'm not. Your men are stupid and undisciplined." She pointed off the truck, "Let me go see to Harm. Those two idiots could have easily killed him, throwing him like that. I don't think your boss will be pleased if he dies in your custody." Carol watched the man's expression turn hard and suppressed a shiver at the look he gave her. Stiffening her spine, she repeated, "Let me go see to Harm." They stared at each other for a few seconds before the man gave a short nod. Carol didn't waste any time clambering down out of the truck, softly cursing the oversized boots that made it more difficult. She hurried to where Harm was lying in an unmoving heap, her heart in her throat. Had the fall actually killed him? He could have easily broken his neck.

Carol crouched by his side and noted with relief that he was still breathing. Carefully supporting his head and neck, she rolled him on his back. Gently brushing the dirt off his face, Carol frowned at the knot that was forming on the side of his forehead. Engrossed in checking Harm over, she was completely unprepared when a hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked her painfully upright. A second later, a fist crashed into the side of her face knocking her back down. As soon as she landed, a kick to the side left her gasping. Then a bootheel came down on her right hand, grinding it into the dirt. Carol cried out in pain, unable to stop the tears. As soon as the boot was removed, she cradled the injured hand to her chest, curling on her side. She was dimly aware of someone kneeling next to her. A large hand closed around her throat, forcing her onto her back and cutting off most of her air. Struggling to breathe, she blinked up at the bearded man.

Never slackening his grip, he leaned in close, his voice a low growl, "I will enjoy teaching you to behave." He sat back up, watching her continue to fight for every breath. Almost casually, he drew back a fist and punched her in the jaw. Standing up, he ignored the unconscious woman at his feet, instead scowling at his two men who were looking decidedly worse for wear. "Get the van," he ordered one, "We must be in the foothills by daybreak." He turned to the other, throwing him a set of keys, "Get rid of the truck and meet us at the Kazir Pass."

Gregor Dostovich watched as his two men scurried off to complete his orders. They'd been with him long enough to recognize his mood and knew any dalliance on their part could earn them worse than what the woman had just received. He grunted thoughtfully as he eyed the two unconscious Americans. He'd been surprised that the woman was so fluent in Russian. It made it easier in a way although he would now have to be careful when speaking around her. So far the mission was running remarkably smoothly, a fact that amazed as well as worried him. In his experience, the better things seemed, the bigger the disaster waiting just around the bend.


	18. Chapter 18

Hope everyone had a good New Year's. Our New Year's Eve was definitely one of the more memorable with the tornadoes that came through. We had wind, hail and torrential rain but no tornado at our place. One touched down about seven miles away. (One odd thing though, just before any of the rain started, there were no birds anywhere - not by the feeders or in nearby trees. On the other hand, the horses, dogs and cats were acting normally. Guess who I'll be watching the next time the weather gets ugly.) The tornado that ripped through Sunset Hills (a suburb of St. Louis) passed between my parents' house (5 miles to the south) and my brother's place (1 mile to the north). We drove past there on the way to visit my parents the next day and it's unbelievable that no one died in all that destruction.

Okay, enough off-topic stuff and on with the story. A word of warning, Gregor is a nasty, amoral piece of work and things will get worse before they get better.

Chapter 18

Wednesday,

Outside of Gronin

Bacovia

2350 Local

Gregor glared ominously at his man, Timur, "What do you mean they've closed the borders?" They'd just put the Americans in the back of the van. Both had only been semi-conscious and unable to put up much of a struggle. That they had tried at all told Gregor that he had more work to do with the pair. He and Timur had been free with their fists while once again tying them. Gregor planned to continue that strategy during the trip. He fully intended to beat the resistance out of the Americans before reaching the Kazir Pass. It would make everything less complicated.

Timur shrugged nervously, edging out of reach, "That's what I've heard." He hesitated, obviously reluctant to say more.

Gregor's eyebrows lowered dangerously, "What else?"

"They've called out their military."

"What? Why?" Gregor exploded. He turned on his heel, stomping away while he tried to control his temper. He needed to think. Glancing over his shoulder at the van containing their prisoners, he shook his head. None of this made sense. He'd expected some response from the Bacovian government. They'd tweaked the lion's nose in his own den, after all, but this was too much for a couple of low-level American visitors. His eyes narrowed and he spun back around, "Oleg and his men - the diversion - what happened?"

Timur stepped back, "They were successful. They kept Zali's security busy and distracted while we escaped."

"Closing the borders and calling out the Army is not distracted," Gregor growled. "What else?"

"I heard that - ," Timur glanced away and nervously cleared his throat, "- that there were casualties."

"Who?" Gregor moved forward a step, a sinking feeling in his gut. He'd told Oleg to be careful - to fire over the heads of the crowd. There were too many dignitaries from other countries. They couldn't afford to hit the wrong people. His livelihood depended upon crossing borders easily. He didn't need an international coalition after him. This had to be the disaster he feared.

"The Queen Margarete and the Crown Prince Nicolas," Timur hunched his shoulders, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

Gregor stared at him for a long moment before asking quietly, "Where is Oleg now?" When Timur didn't answer immediately, Gregor's face was suddenly suffused in rage. He leaned in and roared, "Where is he?"

"I'm not sure," Timur squeaked before hurrying on, "One of his men was killed and one is missing. Oleg escaped with the rest but I haven't heard from him since then."

Gregor inhaled deeply, turning and staring at the van. Damn Oleg. With the borders closed, the Kazir Pass was out of the question, as well as any of the other preferred alternate routes. Trying to smuggle the Americans out would be too dangerous - especially if the military was conducting vehicle searches. Like it or not, he was now responsible for a personal attack on the royal family and even if not all citizens liked their monarchy, they would united in their outrage at the affront to their nation. Keeping Rabb and MacKenzie was the same as plastering a 'guilty' sign across his forehead and a target on his chest if they were discovered. If the Army caught him while he still had them, they would kill him on the spot whether or not he surrendered. There would be no trial. The smart thing to do would be to kill his prisoners right now and dispose of the bodies.

It also wasn't really an option. Gregor raked a hand through his hair. He was caught just as surely as the Americans. He needed to deliver Rabb and MacKenzie alive to the crazy American fool that had hired him if he wanted to collect the rest of huge amount of money they'd promised. He needed it. Setting up the ambush had cost him almost all of the upfront money in bribes and equipment. There was still others who were expecting their cut, including the thrice-cursed Oleg and what remained of his men. If they didn't get paid, he would be a target for them as well.

He would have improvise and there just weren't that many feasible ways through the mountains. They had to get moving. Gregor stared down at his feet while he tried to recall everything he knew about the southeastern mountain range. After a minute or so, he finally smiled. There was a way. He looked over his shoulder at Timur, "Come, we're going to take the Bymer Pass."

"The B-Bymer Pass?" Timur stuttered in fearful surprise, "But Gregor, that's dangerous. You've heard the stories."

Gregor snorted, "Old wives' tales, nothing more." The more he thought about it, the better pleased he was with his idea. No one would expect them to go that way and it wouldn't take him too far away from his rendezvous point. He glanced over his shoulder and frowned. Timur was still standing there, staring at him. "Come," Gregor repeated menacingly.

Timur held still for a few more seconds before walking slowly towards the garage doors. Opening them, he then made his way equally slowly to the van. He couldn't believe that Gregor was serious about this. The Bymer Pass had to be done on foot. It was nothing more than a goat path in places. If that wasn't dangerous enough, they would have to pass through Tchort's Forest, a barren, inhospitable collection of stone spires, precipices and treacherous, unstable ground. Local legend said that Satan himself occupied that land waiting for souls foolhardy enough to trespass into his domain. Certainly, there'd been enough deaths recorded. It seemed that every generation provided a group of naysayers intent upon proving the legend false. All had been converted - all that survived, anyway. Gregor was waiting impatiently in the passenger seat as Timur climbed behind the wheel. With a sigh, he started the vehicle and pulled out onto the road. He had the worst feeling about this.

Thursday,

On the road to Gronin,

Bacovia

0020 Local

Crouched in the shadows, Mac stared impatiently into the darkness, a million worries racing through her head. After Dubby had left, they'd moved away from the road altogether and closer to the forest that ran along both sides. She forced herself to keep still, not wanting to give away her position, and hoped fervently that Dubby would return soon. They needed to get moving if they were going to catch up with the kidnappers.

Tink stood silently near a tree, using the shadow of its bulk to mask his own. It was too dark to see much and he slowed his breathing so he could reach out with his other senses. Methodically, he heard, identified and discarded the natural sounds of the night, trying to pick up anything that didn't belong. A few minutes later, he stiffened and then relaxed as he recognized Gunny Walters' familiar shape.

"Ma'am?"

"Here," Mac called quietly, rising and moving forward. Dubby had sounded relaxed so whatever he'd found couldn't have been threatening. Tink joined her as she met up with the Gunny. "Who's up there?"

"Friendlies, ma'am," Dubby's teeth gleamed in the darkness. "We've got a ride. Come on." He turned and led the way to the intersection.

Relieved and mystified, Mac followed, Tink bringing up the rear. Reaching the intersection, she saw the dark bulk of a van parked on the side. Mac tensed when a smaller shadow detached itself. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when she heard Pick's quiet voice call out a greeting. Joining the young man, Mac couldn't help asking, "Shouldn't you be with Mo and El?"

Pick ducked his head, shooting a glance at Tink, "Mo told me to come." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the dark van, "She was the one who called and arranged for this. We've got weapons and comm units, too." He could tell from the way the Colonel straightened that she was surprised and fervently hoped she wouldn't decide to look a gift horse in the mouth. He wasn't sure how to explain exactly what Mo had done. Most of what he'd heard was in Russian and the conversation had been too rapid for him to follow with any accuracy. What had been clear was that Mo was more like Gheorghe than he'd previously thought. Gone was her normally sunny disposition and in its place was a tightly held rage that reminded him forcefully of her father in his current mood. He had the distinct feeling that she'd run roughshod over Zali.

"Remind me to thank her next time I see her," Mac smiled. This was a huge worry off her shoulders. Now they had a fighting chance.

Pick nodded solemnly, "She said the only thank you she wants is her mother back."

"That's the plan. Let's go," Mac replied, turning to the van while shrugging out of her backpack. She bit her lip as the strap slid down her upper arm. The flesh wound she'd taken was still sore. Walters took her backpack and Tink's, moving to the back of the van and tossing them in.

Pick took the driver's seat while Mac climbed into the back along with Gunny Walters. Tink rode shotgun, settling into the passenger side. He looked at the Colonel in the rearview mirror, "Where to?"

Mac tensed for a moment. That was the million dollar question. If she got it wrong, Harm and Carol were both good as dead. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward, "Do you have any maps?"

Pick gestured towards the glove compartment and Tink opened it up. Pulling out a couple of maps, he handed them to Pick with a shrug. They were in Russian. He had no idea which one they needed. Pick took them and looked back at Mac, "I'll need to turn the dome light on, ma'am." The waning half-moon was high in the sky at this time of the morning, casting enough light to move without using a flashlight but completely inadequate for map-reading. Turning on the dome light would ruin their night vision as well as revealing their position to anyone within a quarter-mile. While Pick was fairly certain there wasn't anything to worry about this close to the palace, it was the Colonel's decision.

"I'll go check the perimeter, ma'am," Dubby spoke up. When she nodded, he slid out of the van and quickly disappeared from view.

Once he was out of sight, Mac looked at Pick, "Okay, turn it on."

She closed her eyes as he reached up for the switch and missed the expression on his face when he finally got a look at her. He kept his features blank as he handed over the map he'd selected, his finger on one spot, "We're about here, ma'am."

"Thank you." Mac accepted the map and leaned back, studying it. She glanced up to see Pick and Tink watching her and gave a half-apologetic shrug, "This might take a little while." They took the hint, turning back around. Mac suppressed a worried sigh. She still didn't know how she did what she did but time was critical. She stared blankly at the map, her thoughts swirling. Trask. It was unbelievable that that man had not only survived but apparently thrived. He had to have had the devil's own luck... Mac stiffened abruptly. Dear God, was something like that possible? Would Avis know? She took a deep breath, stiffening her resolve. It didn't matter. Her mission was to retrieve Harm and Carol. If possible, she'd try to do it without ever seeing that lunatic. Mac focused on the map again and suddenly frowned as a location drew her eye. Deliberately, she scanned the rest of the map and found herself once more staring at the same spot. Leaning forward, she handed the map to a startled Pick, her finger pointing to an area in the southeastern mountains, "There. That's where we'll find them."

"Yes, ma'am." Pick reached into a pocket, pulling out a pen and marked the location. He studied the map for a minute or so, figuring out the route he would need to take and then glanced up, scanning the outside. He looked over at Tink, "We need to get the Gunny back."

"Turn out the dome light," Mac suggested, looking outside as well. She knew he wouldn't be far. Sure enough, within a couple of minutes, he was back in the van.

Pick moved out as soon as the door was shut, knowing time was of the essence. The location the Colonel had picked was hours away and up in the mountains where there were no roads. He'd get as close as he could and then they'd have to hike. Pick looked in the rearview mirror, "We've got about three hours of driving ahead, ma'am, Gunny. You might as well rest while you can."

o o o o o

Wednesday,

FBI HQ

Los Angeles, CA

1420 Local

Don did another search on the internet, looking for any breaking news from Bacovia. It was amazing to him that someone hadn't spilled something, somewhere. Still staring at the screen, he leaned back and raked both hands through his hair while he thought. After a moment, he straightened up again and looked over at Reeves, "Hey Megan, did Ian say where he was going?"

She shook her head, looking as frustrated as he felt, "No, but I thought I heard him say something about Trask. You know I still can't find anything out about Bacovia. Either the State Department is stonewalling us or they know less than we do."

"I'm going with 'less than we do'," Granger looked up from his desk.

"Not to be a wet blanket or anything," David Sinclair leaned back in his chair, joining in the conversation, "But isn't this out of our jurisdiction? Shouldn't the CIA or somebody be handling it?"

Don snapped his fingers, "Yeah, the CIA, what was that guy's name again?" His fingers beat a rapid tattoo on the desk as he tried to recall the names of the CIA and KBG operatives that had been at the wedding. Finally, he smiled, sitting back a bit, "Got it - it's Webb, Clayton Webb." He turned to his computer to call up the number of the CIA HQ. Ten minutes later, he was hanging up his phone muttering, "Damn spooks."

"Let me guess, they can neither confirm or deny that a Clayton Webb is a member of their organization. Have a nice day," Colby leaned back in his chair with a small grin. "Maybe we should try Moscow and that other guy." His eyes widened a moment later, "Are you serious? I was just kidding."

Don was already dialing, "That guy Sokol took the time to show up at their wedding and Bacovia borders Russia, so it could be a national security risk. I'll bet he's already aware of what's going on." A few minutes later, he was speaking slowly and loudly into the phone, "Sokol. I need to talk to Major Sokol. This is Don Eppes of the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation. I have information on the situation in Bacovia... Yes... No, I won't tell you... I'll tell him... Have him call me." Don rattled off his phone number and extension and hung up, looking frustrated.

"You tried, Don, there's not much else we can do," David said.

"Oh hell," Megan straightened suddenly, causing the other three to turn and look at her.

"What?" Don frowned. Megan was looking increasingly worried.

"Biblical proportions," Megan turned towards Don, "Harm and Mac's family - what if that lunatic Trask is after all of them?"

"I was talking to Rabb's parents at the reception. They're at the coronation, too, and from what I understand, Mac's father is dead and she's been estranged from her mother for years," Don replied, still frowning. He looked over at David, "Zali didn't mention the parents being casualties, did he?" When David shook his head, Don turned back to Megan, "Who else?"

"Mac's uncle, the Medal of Honor winner, Matthew O'Hara. He walked her down the aisle, he might still be in the area," Granger spoke up.

"And Harm has guardianship of a teenager. Mattie Grace was one of the bridesmaids. She's not at the coronation." Megan pulled out her phone, "I'm calling Harriet Roberts. She'll know who Mattie's staying with and she might even know where O'Hara is. That woman is better informed than a dozen Washington insiders."

Fifteen minutes later, she disconnected. Don looked up from his computer. He'd gone to searching for some sort of trail that would lead from Rashnu Enterprises to Margery Threetrails. Every time he thought about that woman, he had a bad feeling but without some sort of evidence, there wasn't much he could do besides wait for her to move. That worried him even more than Trask. He frowned at the look on Megan's face, "What is it?"

Megan ran a hand through her hair, "Mac and Harm bought a house in Falls Church before they left for Bacovia. Matthew O'Hara is living there, along with Mattie Grace."

Granger whistled, "Man, it helps to be lawyers, doesn't it? I thought it took weeks to work out financing and stuff."

Megan shot him an exasperated look before looking back at Don, "The point is Trask has a hard target. Can we contact the DC office and let them know?"

Don shook his head, "You know as well as I do, they won't be able to do anything. All we have is suspicion. Trask obviously would have hired it out so we can't tell them who or when. DC is not going to waste their time on maybes."

Megan turned to her phone, "Well, I can at least call O'Hara and warn him to keep his eyes open. The man was a Recon Marine, he'll know how to defend himself and Mattie." She frowned a little when Don picked up his phone, too, "Did you want to talk to him instead?"

"No, go ahead, but I just thought of someone who'd probably be willing to act on what little we've got." Don smiled grimly at the curious faces of his team, "Leroy Jethro Gibbs of NCIS."

o o o o o

Wednesday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

1730 Local

The phone rang and Matt looked at it in annoyance. He and Mattie had just sat down to dinner. It was probably some telemarketer - they always seemed to call during meals. He saw Mattie was staring at him, "What?"

"It might be someone calling about Patch," she said quietly. She'd gotten tired of referring to the dog as 'Dog' or 'Girl' and pressed Matt to give her a name. He'd reluctantly come up with the usual ones: Spot, Princess, Rover, which Mattie had immediately vetoed. Finally, he'd thrown out 'Patch' from an earlier conversation he and Mattie had had while discussing what breeds had mixed to produce the dog. Matt, who'd always had purebreds, had jokingly referred to her as a cabbage patch puppy. Patch was the first name that Mattie hadn't objected to and it stuck. The dog didn't seem to mind and came when she was called, although Mattie was pretty sure it was because it was Matt doing the calling. She hoped she was wrong about the caller. It had only been a day and they'd fielded a number of calls already. No one had correctly described the dog. Mattie knew Matt was already fond of Patch and it was obvious the dog thought he was right up there with sliced beef. If her owners did finally call, Mattie was seriously contemplating an attempt to buy the dog back.

Matt nodded silently, getting up to answer the phone while hoping the teenager was wrong. Despite what he said to Mattie about not getting attached, he'd gone and done it himself. It hadn't been hard. In their short acquaintance, Patch had become his silent, devoted shadow, following him everywhere she could. Picking up the handset, he steeled himself, "Rabb residence." He frowned a little, "This is Matthew O'Hara... Yes, Ms. Reeves, I remember you from the wedding. What can I do for you?" He braced himself against the counter a few moments later, "What?... when?... do you - ... yes, I understand... who?... no, Sarah's never mentioned him... what?... are you sure?... well, I appreciate the heads up... no... yes... just a second," he grabbed a pen and scribbled a number on the pad they kept by the phone, "all right, thank you." Matt hung up the phone and stared at it for a couple seconds.

"Uncle Matt? What's wrong?"

Matt turned to face a worried-looking Mattie, "That was Megan Reeves of the LA FBI. You remember her from the wedding?" When Mattie nodded silently, he continued softly, "Something's happened at the coronation celebration in Bacovia." Mattie inhaled sharply, obviously fearing the worst and he held up a hand, "There's not a lot of details available. Sarah, Grandpa Frank and Grandma Trish seem to be okay." He hesitated briefly, "Harm is missing - they think kidnapped."

"No," Mattie whispered. Matt opened his arms and she flung herself into his comforting embrace. She could hear Patch at their feet, whining softly. After a few seconds, she asked tearfully, "I don't understand. Do they know who or why?"

Matt took her by the shoulders, ducking his head to look in her eyes, "Not a lot of concrete facts but the FBI has a theory. Five years ago, Sarah and Harm were on a case in Tennessee. They got tangled up with one of those extremist militia groups, headed by a religious lunatic named Trask. The local FBI assembled a task force and took the militia down. Trask was thought to have been killed - Harm saw him get shot - but the body disappeared. The LA FBI just discovered he's alive and they think he's after revenge on Harm and Sarah. Apparently he's crazy enough to cause an international incident. They tried to warn Bacovia but were too late. They're still trying to find out what's happened." Mattie nodded slowly and Matt took a deep breath, "Mattie, there's more. Ms. Reeves thinks this Trask is going to try something here. He wants to hurt Sarah and Harm as much as possible and he knows how much you mean to them." Matt's expression grew hard, "That's not going to happen. They'll have to go through me first." A loud bang startled them both and Matt glanced upwards with a wry grin, "And it sounds like they'll have to get past the McGinleys, too."

They sat back down at the table but after twenty minutes of pushing food around their plates, Matt conceded that neither of them had much of an appetite left. He stood up, taking both his and Mattie's dishes. "Should we try calling someone?" Mattie asked hesitantly as Matt cleaned off their plates, rinsing and stacking them in the dishwasher.

Matt turned to look at her, "I doubt we'd get through and it might be better to wait for them to contact us. Ms. Reeves did say she would call back as soon as she gets any new information. I know it's hard but we'll just have to be patient." He leaned against the counter, "Tell you what, if you want, I'll call your school in the morning and tell them we have a family emergency. You can stay home with me." He went back to cleaning up and Mattie joined him a few seconds later. They finished up about ten minutes later and Matt glanced over at the teenager, hoping to distract her, "Feel like watching a movie? Or would you like another lesson in chess?"

Mattie managed a ghost of a smile, "Depends on whether the chess lesson includes Purrl again. She doesn't play fair." Purrl, already out of sorts because Mac was gone, had fussed and complained during the last lesson until she finally jumped up on the table, knocking over the pieces. Grabbing a bishop, the kitten then raced out of the room with Mattie in hot pursuit. It had taken a good half-hour to corner the feline and a ransom of catnip to retrieve the piece. Matt had been amused although Mattie wasn't. Of course, he wasn't the one who'd been halfway under a bed doing the negotiating.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Southeastern Bacovia

0450 Local

Their travel had been slower than Gregor had planned because of the increasing military presence on the main roads. They'd been forced to take back roads and detours to avoid checkpoints and they were dropping further and further behind schedule. He glanced into the back of the van where their captives now lay concealed under a jumble of old canvas tarps and assorted cartons and tools. When they'd started, he hadn't considered the increase in traffic and the possibility of discovery. He couldn't afford the slightest suspicion. During the first detour, he and Timur had broken into a garage and stolen what they needed for camouflage.

It was maddening the way his luck was turning. Less than five miles from the turn-off and they'd run into the tail-end of an Army convoy. Gregor knew his life depended on making sure the Americans remained quiet as they crawled along and had taken appropriate measures as soon as he'd seen the trucks and traffic. Rabb had been easy enough to render unconscious. Gregor was aware of the damaged knee and a quick, vicious twist had done its work. The man hadn't even had time to scream before passing out. The woman had taken a bit more punishment but Gregor had noted with satisfaction that fear was beginning to replace anger when she saw him. Threading through the traffic those last few miles had taxed his nerves considerably as he tried to watch the cars and trucks while also watching the back of the van.

"Turn here," Gregor finally ordered quietly, pointing towards a gravel road on the left.

Dutifully, Timur turned the van and slowed down as it dipped and bounced along amid ruts and potholes. He caught Gregor's ominous stare. "If I go any faster, I'll wreck the van and we'll have to walk even further," Timur grumbled defensively, feeling slightly relieved when Gregor grunted and returned his gaze to the road ahead. He almost wished the van would break down before they reached the trail head for the Bymer Pass. Hopefully, someone would be there waiting for them, otherwise Timur wasn't sure how Gregor expected the two of them to negotiate the treacherous passage with their captives in their present condition. He didn't think the man could walk on his own.

Twenty minutes later, Timur was sure his teeth were going to rattle out of his head. They rounded a curve and he sighed in relief. Ahead in the pre-dawn darkness, he could make out buildings and sheds. This had to be their destination. Reaching the small outpost, he pulled over at a nod from Gregor. While the big man went to find his contact, Timur walked around to the back of the van and opened the doors. Shoving cartons aside, he yanked off the tarps and shone a flashlight on the two Americans. Neither seemed conscious and he grunted in annoyance. Considering the roughness of the road together with what Gregor had meted out, it wasn't that surprising but it was inconvenient. Timur wasn't looking forward to struggling with dead weight.

Pulling out his knife, he sliced through the ropes on their ankles. The woman, at least, could walk once he got her to wake up. Timur stepped up onto the van bumper, intent upon her. A split second later, he gave an anguished cry as Harm suddenly kicked out at his lower leg. Timur tumbled out of the van, clutching his knee and cursing. Just as he sat up, something hard connected with the top of his head and he collapsed in an unmoving heap. Carol dropped the wrench and turned back to Harm, "Come on."

With an effort Harm sat up, shaking his head slowly. "Go, get out of here," he said through gritted teeth.

"Not without you," she insisted, wincing as she latched onto his arm with her left hand. Her right, swollen and discolored, was becoming increasingly painful. Having her wrists bound together only exacerbated the injury. Harm, realizing she wouldn't go without him, did his best to get out of the van quickly. After what seemed like an eternity, he stood panting on one leg. "Drape your arms around my shoulders and lean on me," Carol ordered as she moved over to his bad side. As soon as he did, she started them forward.

They were almost to the underbrush when a heavy blow across his shoulders sent Harm crashing sideways, taking Carol to the ground with him. Gregor crouched next to the downed pair, a thick walking staff in his hand. He gave them a slight smile, speaking in English for Harm's benefit, "You will pay for this later. Get up." Gregor stood and gave Harm a hard jab in the back with the end of the staff. "Get up," he repeated. He moved back, eyeing the two critically as they struggled to their feet. Rabb was obviously not as defenseless as he'd thought and despite the pain he was in, still stubbornly defiant. On the other hand, Gregor was pleased to see the chinks widening in MacKenzie's armor. Her fear of him was growing stronger. He could see it in her eyes. Pointing to the side, he ordered, "Go." Watching impassively as they limped past, he leaned forward a little and spoke softly to her in Russian, "You've earned yourself another lesson." She paled visibly and stumbled, causing Rabb to gasp as his knee suddenly had to bear weight. The two staggered, fighting to remain upright and Gregor smiled.


	19. Chapter 19

Sorry for the delay - it's been one of those weeks. Thanks to everyone who reviewed - it's always nice to hear from you all. Keeps me on my toes. I hope all of you enjoy this next installment.

Chapter 19

Wednesday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

2030 Local

Patch raised her head off the floor and stared towards the front door. A moment later, a low growl issued from deep in her throat. Matt put down the pad he'd been working on and looked at her, frowning, "What is it, girl?" Ordinarily, he'd be out walking the property but he didn't want to leave Mattie alone and unguarded. He couldn't afford the possibility of someone sneaking in while he was out of teenager had given up about forty-five minutes ago and fled to her room. Matt was using the time to begin formulating plans. Despite his words to Mattie, it wasn't going to be easy. There was just too much for one person to guard. The way he saw it, he either protected the property or Mattie. There wasn't really a choice. It didn't mean he would give up without a fight but his first priority would be getting Mattie to safety even if it meant losing the house. His other problem was time. Obviously, the more time he had to prepare, the better. The question had been whether he would get it.

Patch glanced at him and climbed to her feet, growling once more as she took a step towards the door. That was enough for Matt. He picked up the Glock 9mm he'd gotten from the lockbox in Harm and Sarah's bedroom. A knock sounded and Patch raced to the door barking wildly. Matt stood, clipping the holstered weapon out of sight, behind his back. They didn't usually get visitors at this time of night but he rather doubted someone intent upon mayhem would bother knocking either.

Walking out to the foyer, he glanced up the steps and saw Mattie standing near the top, her eyes wide with fright. "Move back out of sight," he ordered quietly. Patch stood by the door. She'd stopped barking but continued to growl. At a gesture and quiet word from Matt, she walked reluctantly back to him and sat down. Matt stayed to the side of the entryway and called, "Who is it?"

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS."

The voice was familiar. Mystified, Matt walked up to the door and opened it. Standing on the porch was the older man he remembered from the wedding. "Agent Gibbs?" Matt stood to the side, silently inviting him in.

Gibbs walked in and stopped in the foyer, glancing around. Hearing a growl, he turned to see a mid-sized black and white dog glaring at him. Gibbs raised an eyebrow and frowned a little, "Hey." The dog stopped growling abruptly and sat.

"Did the FBI call you?"

Gibbs turned back to Matt, nodding, "Yeah."

"Have you heard anything else?"

Both men looked up to see Mattie standing at the head of the stairs. Gibbs tilted his head a little, "Mattie Grace?" When she nodded, he shook his head, "Probably not much more than you." He looked back at Matt, "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Matt led the way to the kitchen. Mattie hurried down the stairs and Gibbs ushered her ahead. Halfway down the hallway, he slowed and glanced around, rubbing the back of his neck. Not seeing anything, he resumed walking to the kitchen, frowning thoughtfully. He could have sworn someone touched him. Mattie was already seated when he entered and Gibbs took the next chair. "Coffee?" Matt asked.

Gibbs swiveled around slightly, "Marine grade?"

Matt snorted, "Of course." He poured two mugs and brought them to the table, sliding one to Gibbs. Sipping his, he eyed the NCIS agent, "Is this an official visit?"

Gibbs shook his head, wrapping his hands around the mug, "Nope. So, what are you going to do?"

Matt leaned back. "My plans at the moment are rather fluid," he said dryly. He nodded towards Mattie, "First priority, then the house."

Gibbs nodded, taking a drink of the coffee, "You've got a dog. That's a good first step." He put the mug down, "Thought I'd spend the night here - if you have no objections."

"None at all," Matt grinned. "I appreciate the help." The odds were improving.

Gibbs turned to Mattie, "Okay with you?" She nodded and he frowned a little, "What?"

Mattie hesitated and then looked at Matt, "What about the McGinleys?"

"I don't think it will be a problem," Matt hedged, glancing at Gibbs. The NCIS agent didn't strike him as someone who'd believe in ghosts.

"Who are the McGinleys?" Gibbs asked. He'd have McGee check them out. Considering what they were facing, conveniently helpful neighbors might not be what they appeared.

"They're the former owners," Mattie said slowly, obviously not sure how to proceed. "They like to keep an eye on the place."

"They live nearby?" Gibbs pulled out his cellphone. It sounded unusual but he supposed it was possible. They could be elderly and moved to a smaller house but still felt like this was their home.

"Well, actually… ," Mattie stopped again, not wanting to appear like some sort of credulous teenaged airhead in front of this serious and rather scary man.

"Actually, what?" Gibbs asked in exasperation a few seconds later. It wasn't that hard a question. He looked over at Matt, "What exactly is the problem with these McGinleys?"

Matt sighed, knowing how this was going sound, "They're dead."

Gibbs stared at him. "The McGinleys," he stated in a flat tone.

"Yes." Matt raised his hands, "We live in a house haunted by its original owners. Ask around, anyone who's lived in the area for more than a few years knows about this place."

"Are you serious? There's no such - hey!" Gibbs hunched forward, his hand going to the back of his head. He straightened up a moment later, looking around indignantly, "What the hell? Somebody hit me."

Matt and Mattie exchanged a surprised look. This was a first. Up until now, it seemed the McGinleys were content with making noise and moving objects. Swallowing a smile, Matt shrugged a shoulder, "I guess you insulted them."

"Insulted them?" Gibbs stared at the older man, "Are you - " He stopped, glancing around warily, "Can you see them?"

Matt shook his head while Mattie piped up, "Mac can." She shot a look at Matt, "Usually we just hear them banging stuff or find things that have moved."

"Banging stuff - wait, the Colonel can see them?" Gibbs sat back in his chair, looking between the two. "Did she and Rabb know this place was haunted before they bought it?"

Mattie nodded her head vigorously, "Uh-huh. Harm said that's why the price was so reasonable. Well, that and the McGinleys didn't seem to like any of the other buyers."

"' - didn't seem to -'," Gibbs shook his head. "So, Sarah and Harm bought a haunted house. Well, why not?" He gave a lop-sided grin, "I'm going to do all of you a favor and not tell Abby." Gibbs leaned forward, folding his hands on the table, and focused on Matt, "We were going to go over the plan for protecting this place." He looked upwards for a moment before commenting dryly, "Listen up, McGinleys. You're part of this, too."

o o o o o

Tess stared at Kate, "You hit him."

Kate grinned smugly, "I was getting his attention. You have no idea how satisfying that was."

"You know that man?" Phin asked from the other side of the kitchen. He was watching the dog lying beside O'Hara's chair and the dog was watching him.

"I worked for him," Kate answered shortly, letting it go at that. Seeing Gibbs at the front door had been a shock, dredging up old memories. She halfway wished Avis could be here with her gift of communication but knew it was impossible. Avis was needed where she was. It sounded like she already had her hands full.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Southeastern Bacovia

0355 Local

"Ma'am, Gunny? Wake up." Tink's deep voice was soft. Walters' eyes snapped open almost immediately. The Colonel took a bit longer. She started to yawn and winced. Tink noted that the side of her face around the gash was purpling nicely.

Mac blinked slowly and raised her head up to look around. The pain had helped wake her up the rest of the way. It was dark but she knew dawn wasn't far off. She focused on Tink who was still watching her. "Where are we?" Mac asked, her voice gruff. Surprisingly, her sleep had been dreamless. She wasn't sure what to make of it.

"We're in the foothills, coming up to a checkpoint, ma'am," Pick answered, glancing over his shoulder. "It looks like Gheorghe has called out the Army."

"What?" Dubby spoke up in surprise.

"If they've closed their borders, I guess martial law makes sense as a next step," Tink shrugged a little. He hadn't been aware that Bacovia even had an army. Pick, as was his wont, not only knew they existed but had a rough idea of their numbers and a fairly decent knowledge of their history. Because of their geography and population, the Bacovian Royal Army was more like three or four elite Mountain Ranger divisions. With the lessons of Soviet occupation still within a generation or two's memory, Gheorghe had been painfully aware that they would always lose in a numbers game. He had instead focused on quality and training. Should someone once again attempt to annex their little country, Bacovia would wage war with a shadow army. Being part of the Bacovian military was a fierce point of pride. They didn't take just anyone.

"We need to talk to the officer in charge," Mac said quietly while glancing towards the back of the van. The weapons Mo had provided were still cased. Considering the circumstances, she wasn't sure how the soldiers would react to finding the guns, but it probably wouldn't be good. There was only one car ahead of them and Pick pulled their van over to the side. Almost immediately, two soldiers headed for them, weapons at the ready. "All of you, get your IDs and passports out. You're with me, Lt. Tyler. Wait until I say before you get out. I don't want to spook anybody." Mac edged around Gunny Walters to get to the door. They were the two least threatening of the group and Pick would be able to follow some of the conversation. While being American probably wouldn't win them any popularity contests, the other side of the coin was that they wouldn't immediately be considered terrorists.

As she expected, the soldiers tensed when they heard the door open. Neither relaxed when Mac appeared in front of the van. Holding up her ID and raising her other hand, she identified herself and asked to speak to whoever was in charge. The two soldiers conversed for a few moments before one turned and headed for the military vehicles parked on the side. The one who remained stayed where he was, eyeing Mac and the van. Finally, he gestured with his rifle, ordering everyone out of the vehicle. Mac glanced over her shoulder and nodded.

Tink looked at Pick, "What did he say?"

"He wants all of us out where he can see us," Pick answered. "Get out slowly, leave the doors open and for godsakes, try not to look like a threat."

Tink stared at Pick, "And how would you suggest I do that? I left all the frilly uniforms at home."

"Gentlemen," Dubby interrupted them, "The Colonel's waiting." The three men climbed out, hands raised and stood quietly.

A few minutes later, the first soldier reappeared with his officer and several other troops in tow. They fanned out as they got closer, enclosing Mac and the others in a lethal-looking net. The officer stepped forward, "You are Americans." He spoke in lightly accented English.

"Yes," Mac replied, handing over her ID, "I'm Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie Rabb of the United States Marine Corps." She introduced the rest of her group.

He nodded stiffly as he studied the information, "I am Lt. Alexi Gosin, Royal Bacovian Army." He stared at her for a moment, then glanced around, lowering his voice, "Rabb. Are you related to the Rabb that was taken with the Queen Mother?"

"My husband," Mac replied quietly.

"And you are here because...", Gosin prompted, frowning slightly. He couldn't imagine what she thought she was doing and dealing with a female military officer was outside his experience. There were no women serving in the Army at this time although some rumblings were now being heard. Personally, he didn't believe they should. It was a rugged life and he didn't think women could keep up. Knowing that the United States military allowed them in had lessened his opinion of them. He hadn't agreed with the decision to let the Princess Natalya attend the American Naval Academy either.

"I'm going to find him and Carol," Mac watched impassively as first disbelief and then amusement showed on the Lieutenant's face.

He snapped his fingers, "Just like that? And how do you intend to do this thing?" Gosin smiled sardonically for a few moments before his expression suddenly darkened and he took a step towards her. Dubby, TInk and Pick all straightened in response to the implicit threat. A gesture from Mac kept them from moving forward. The Lieutenant signaled his own troops to stand down as they tensed in reaction to the Americans. He glared suspiciously at her, his eyes snapping, "Have you been in contact with them? Is that why you are here? Do you know where they are?"

"No, I haven't been in contact with them," Mac answered tensely, not liking where he was heading, "And I don't know where they are exactly." She hesitated, shaking her head, "It's hard to explain. Call it a hunch, or a feeling, or whatever, but it's something. I won't sit around doing nothing when I know I can find my husband."

"Then you are a fool - worse than a fool, forcing your men to come with you. These mountains are dangerous," Gosin stared at her in disdain and waved a hand. "I should keep all of you here for your safety."

"If you do, you're condemning my husband and Carol Dzurick to death," Mac's voice dropped ominously. "Let me find them."

"How?" He shot back. Glancing at her men, he wasn't surprised to see anger. He was surprised to see it directed towards him. They should be thanking him. How could they follow this woman?

"Give me a map," Mac said evenly. Her nerves were stretched taut over this latest development. She hadn't been trying to be overly dramatic about Harm and Carol's fate. Events were rushing along like a river out of its banks and she was caught in the currents. She simply knew, with a bone-deep intensity, that she had to be the one to find them if they were to live. What was unclear was whether or not it would be a trade-off and she'd survive the confrontation.

The Lieutenant stared at her in silence for several long seconds before glancing over his shoulder and rapping out an order. One of the soldiers promptly turned and jogged back to the trucks. They waited in silence for his return. A few minutes later, he came trotting back. Approaching Lt. Gosin, he snapped off a salute and handed over the map. The Lieutenant opened it up and turned to Mac, holding it out with sarcastic politeness, "Your map."

Mac took it and after no more than a cursory scan, pointed to a spot in the mountains, "There. We'll find them there." She didn't know if it was fear or adrenaline or both, but the location had practically leaped off the map at her. They had to get moving.

Lt. Gosin stepped forward, doubt clearly etched across his face. When he saw where she was pointing, his face reddened with anger, "You're lying. How dare you waste my time like this? You have no idea where they are." He turned to his men, "Take them into custody."

"No, wait!" Pick stepped forward, resolutely ignoring the rifles that were now pointing at him. "Why do you think the Colonel is lying?"

"Because it's not possible!" Lt. Gosin snapped.

Pick turned towards Mac, "Ma'am?"

Stone-faced, Mac stared at the Bacovian Lieutenant, "That's where they'll be. We still have time but we have to leave - now." She wasn't sure how she knew that, if it was somehow tied to her time-sense, but she could literally feel the window of opportunity slowly closing.

Pick turned back to the Lieutenant, "Why isn't it possible?"

"Because that's the trailhead to the Bymer Pass," Lt. Gosin growled. Behind him, the soldiers within hearing shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other. "There's been two avalanches along the pass already this year. No one goes that way and survives. You would have to be stupid or crazy to attempt it."

"Or desperate," Mac countered softly. "You've closed the borders and they have to get out of this country. They don't have many choices left."

"Or you're with them, sent here as a decoy to draw us off so they can escape!" Gosin stepped back and pulled out his pistol, pointing it at Mac. "Tell me where they really are!" She stared at him in shock and he thumbed the hammer back, "Tell me! Now!"

Wednesday,

FBI HQ

Los Angeles, CA

1550 Local

Don reached for his phone while still staring at his computer. There'd finally been a tiny blurb about an incident at the coronation celebration in Bacovia. Half the paragraph had been spent identifying the little country's location. Nothing else had appeared - there was no mention at all about possible casualties, the borders being closed or a kidnapping. Don shook his head, knowing that that tiny droplet of information would soon become a deluge. Timing was working in favor of the Bacovian government right now. Most of the country was probably asleep, unaware of what had transpired. They'd find out soon enough and then the whole world would know. "Eppes," he said after picking up the handset. He straightened in surprise a moment later and gestured at the others, "Major Sokol. Hang on, sir, and let me put this on speakerphone so my team can hear." He waved a hand and Megan, Colby and David moved over to his desk.

"Okay Major, thanks for returning my call," Don said, glancing at his team.

"You made it hard to resist," Sokol replied. "What do you know about the mess in Bacovia?"

Don glanced at Megan, "We're pretty sure we know who and why. What about you?"

"I know that Bacovia's closed its borders and instituted martial law," Sokol sounded annoyed. Don wasn't sure if it was because that was all Sokol knew or that he was ticked because Don had been deliberately vague.

"Yeah, we heard that, too," Don swallowed a sigh. He'd been hoping to get more of a handle on what was happening over there now. They hadn't been able to reach Liz Parker again, or anyone else for that matter. He didn't know what that meant but he didn't like it. "We're fairly certain a man named Trask was behind the attack on the coronation celebration. He was targeting Rabb and MacKenzie. Five years ago, Trask was head of a nutty militia group those two got mixed up with. In the fight to take the militia down, Trask was shot and presumably killed but the body disappeared. We just learned a few hours ago that he's alive and that he was interested in the coronation. We managed to get hold of Marius Zali for a few minutes - Rabb is missing and so is Carol Dzurick. We think whoever Trask hired mistook her for Mac."

"Damn," Sokol muttered. "Well, that explains a few things. There were casualties from the attack, among them Queen Margarete and the Crown Prince Nicolas. Gheorghe is back in charge - he usurped the throne from Princess Natalya. I'd say he's out for blood."

"Oh my god, they were killed?" Megan broke in.

"Wounded," the Russian agent's voice was gruff. "I'm not sure about the Queen but word is the Prince might not make it." He paused for a second or two, "Where's Sarah?"

Don raked a hand through his hair, "Still at the palace, I guess. I heard it was in lockdown. We haven't been able to reach her either."

There was an explosive snort over the speaker. "Yeah, right. Some nut grabbed her husband. You really think she's politely sitting on her hands until the Bacovians decide to open the door?"

"Oh hell," Don shot a look at Megan.

The profiler shook her head, "She'll have found a way to go after them. You saw how Harm was when she was missing. I think they'd have to kill her to stop her."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Don muttered quietly.

"Listen," Sokol's voice crackled over the speaker again, "You find out where she is and let me know. Wherever she's headed, that's where Rabb and Dzurick will be. I can't put assets in Bacovia but I can get them on the border. The kidnappers must know by now they have to get out of the country."

"You think they've realized their mistake yet? About grabbing Carol Dzurick instead of the Colonel?" Colby asked.

"I hope not. They've practically guaranteed themselves a death sentence as it is. If they find out they've got her instead of Sarah, they'll probably kill her and Rabb and make a run for it. The Bacovian military doesn't screw around," Sokol replied gruffly.

"Mind if I join the party?"

Don turned to see Ian standing in the doorway. "Who's that?" Sokol asked at the same time.

"Special Agent Ian Edgerton," Ian replied as he walked into the room. He glanced at Don with a slight smirk, "I'm with the Bureau's Fugitive Recovery unit." He held up a folded piece of paper, "And I have a warrant for the arrest of one John Phillip Trask. How's the weather in your neck of the woods?"


	20. Chapter 20

Thanks everyone for the reviews. We're heading into the homestretch and as I've said before, it gets worse before it gets better. Hang in there.

Chapter 20

Thursday,

Gapochka Trauma Center

Toprek, Bacovia

0345 Local

Mo and El hurried down the corridor, ignoring the cordon of security that moved with them. The Medical Director and Chief of Surgery had just been in to brief them. Nicky was still in surgery but his doctors were cautiously optimistic. Cat had been moved from recovery to a heavily guarded suite. She was awake and requesting her family. Her doctor and nurses had yet to inform her of her brother's condition or her mother's disappearance. Mo wasn't sure how to break the news to her twin. She vaguely wished her grandparents were here but space had been limited on the helicopter. As far as she knew, they were still at the palace.

The two guards, at the door to the suite, opened it for the sisters as they approached. Mo managed to remember to acknowledge their courtesy, most of her attention focused on seeing Cat. El grabbed her hand as they crossed the threshold. Stepping into the anteroom, they passed more security. Taking a deep breath, Mo gave El what she hoped was a reassuring look and opened the door to Cat's room. Cat was propped up in her bed, hooked up to numerous monitors and IVs. Although she was pale, she smiled at her two sisters, relieved to see them. The refusal of practically everyone to tell her anything after she'd woken up had worried her greatly. She hadn't been able to summon enough energy yet to become angry.

El left Mo and rushed up to Cat's bedside, stopping uncertainly. She needed the reassurance of her sister's touch but was afraid to hurt her. Mo was a trifle slower coming up to the other side of the bed, the news she had to impart making her hesitant. Cat smiled at her youngest sister and lifted a hand slightly. El grabbed hold gratefully, "Oh Cat, I was so scared."

"I'm sorry," Cat gave El's hand a squeeze before looking over to her twin, "Was anyone else hurt? Did Marius catch the gunmen?" She couldn't help tensing at the look on Mo's face, "What's happened?" She glanced at El and her breath caught as she turned back to her twin, "Tell me."

Mo dropped her eyes to the bed, "Cat, Nicky - ," she exhaled slowly, "Nicky was wounded, too. When you were shot, he caught you as you started to fall and turned to shield you. He was hit right after."

Cat's face lost what little color she had and the monitors began beeping. A nurse flew into the room and the young woman's temper finally flared. "Get out!" The nurse froze for a split-second before fleeing. Cat turned her glare to the security guard who had followed the nurse in. He blinked and wisely retraced his steps, pulling the door closed behind him. Cat steeled herself, turning back to Mo, "Is he - ?" She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. Although she loved all her siblings and the bond with her twin was the strongest, Cat had always been close to Nicky, just as Mo was close to El. The thought of him dying was almost more than she could stand.

Mo shook her head quickly, "He's still in surgery. The doctors are optimistic." She shared a look with her twin, neither having to say out loud the corollary that the same prognosis had been made about their father. He hadn't been the same since.

Cat took a breath and winced, "Is that where Mom and Daddy are? Waiting for the surgery to end?" A small, strangled sound from El gave her a bit of warning.

"Mom's missing," Mo admitted heavily, glancing at El. She hadn't told anyone else what Pick had told her. A moment later, she was reaching forward to prevent Cat from sitting up, "Stop, you'll hurt yourself."

"What do you mean - 'missing'? You mean taken? What happened? How did they get her out of the palace? Where the hell was security?" Cat was gasping by the time she finished, tears running down her face from what she'd just heard and the pain she was in from trying to move.

"I don't know all the details yet but Pick said it was a mistake," Mo answered, finally lowering herself onto the edge of the bed. She plucked a few tissues from the bedside table and dabbed at her sister's face. Glancing at El, Mo gestured for her to sit as well. Both Cat and El wore identical looks of confusion.

El spoke first, "What do you mean, a mistake?"

Mo glanced down, "They thought she was Colonel Mac."

"What?" Cat and El spoke at the same time.

Mo exhaled softly, "Commander Harm was taken, too. Mom was dancing with him when it all started. The LA FBI called Liz less than a hour later when they couldn't reach their Ambassador. They believe a man named Trask was behind the whole thing. He wants revenge because of a case five years ago."

Cat's expression darkened, "All of this was because of Commander Harm and Colonel Mac?"

"Because of Trask," Mo corrected her sister gently. "It's not their fault. They didn't even know he was still alive. He was also reported killed five years ago."

"But why here? And now?" El asked plaintively.

"How did they do it? What happened to security? Where was the Guard?" Cat was still scowling.

Mo raised her hands helplessly, repeating, "I don't know yet. We came here with you and Nicky. Marius is still investigating."

"What else?" Cat asked quietly.

Mo shifted uncomfortably. It was impossible to keep anything from her twin. "Daddy's taken charge. He closed our borders and instituted martial law."

Cat's eyes widened for a moment and then narrowed, "But - but he can't! Mo, why didn't you stop him?"

"I didn't know how!" Mo stood abruptly, throwing her hands up, "He scared me, Cat! I've never seen him like this - not even on his worst days. He's not listening to Uncle Danny either." Folding her arms, she turned away and walked a few steps, shoulders hunched.

"Mo, you have to go back. You're next in line," Cat said quietly. "You have to stop him."

"I don't know if I can," Mo admitted shakily. She took a deep breath and finally turned around, "There's something else."

Cat eyed her warily, "What?"

"Colonel Mac's gone after the terrorists, along with Tink and Gunny Walters. She got Marius to allow her to leave the palace but that's all he would do. He's blaming her and Commander Harm for the attack. Pick told me." She shrugged her shoulders, looking down at the floor, "I lost my temper and bypassed Marius to provide a vehicle with supplies and weapons. Pick took it and left to catch up with Colonel Mac."

Cat stared at her, "By themselves? Mo, that's illegal! They're active military of a foreign power. You can't just arm them and turn them loose on our soil. They don't have any authority. Marius might have been angry but he didn't do anything for a reason. Daddy's instituted martial law. Our army could shoot them on sight."

"But she can find them!" Mo argued, "I told you what Miss Harriet and Commander Roberts said at our birthday party. She's done it before and we all know what she's capable of in dangerous situations. No one knows where those bastards are going and martial law or not, we don't have enough people to watch every inch of our borders. I had to do it. It's our best chance to get Mom back." She didn't add the word 'alive' for El's sake, knowing Cat would hear it anyway.

Leaning back into her pillows, Cat stared at her sisters. She could see Mo's point and, honestly, she didn't know if she would have done differently. It didn't make it right, however. It was still against the law and someone in the loyal opposition was bound to point that out in the aftermath. It would be a poor thank you if Colonel Mac did succeed and had to face charges. Obviously, a royal pardon would clear all that away but it could still be considered a blot on the Colonel's record. Who knew what some Washington bureaucrat would do with it? Both the Colonel and Commander Harm had earned their fair share of enemies. Cat blinked a couple of times, exhaling slowly. Exhaustion was gnawing away at her, making it harder to think clearly. She fought against it. "Is Arina here?"

Arina Dasmanov had become Cat's personal assistant nearly six months ago. She'd been the third one in that position. It was hard finding someone who could not only handle the details, but also the stress of public life. Making it even harder was finding someone who understood the bond between Cat and Mo. Arina filled the bill. Although she was nearly ten years older than the young Queen, Arina's personality meshed well with Cat's. She knew not to confuse being a loyal confidant with over-familiarity, respecting the necessary boundaries. Arina was also a twin herself, and had no problems dealing with Mo or the rest of the siblings.

"She's just outside," Mo answered, "I'll get her." It had taken Mo a little while to warm up to Arina. Part of it was the inevitable jealousy that the woman was somehow replacing her in Cat's life and part had been the lurking fear that Arina would turn out like Lucian Valter, the man who had betrayed the family and nearly killed their father. Gradually, Arina had overcome those fears with her professional demeanor and warm personality.

In a minute, Mo had returned with Arina. The older woman hurried up to the bed, her manner deeply sympathetic as her gaze took in all three sisters, "Your Majesty, your Highnesses, how may I help?" This incident had shaken her deeply. It was hard to believe something like this could happen.

She'd applied for the position with the royal family almost on a whim. Arina and her twin, Anja, were the oldest of ten children. Working multiple jobs, Arina put herself through University and law school, the first in her family to do so. Anja had gone the route of most of the women in their little town and gotten married instead. Arina already knew she had a talent for organizing, be it people or things; university and law school had shown that she had keen, analytical mind as well. When her friend, Janko, had told her about the opening, she'd dismissed it. She'd had years of being an extra parent to her little brothers and sisters. Who wanted to play nursemaid to some spoiled royal?

Janko, to her surprise, had called her a foolish snob. Stung, she'd applied for the job, figuring as soon as they discovered her common origins, they'd politely kick her out the door. Her first interview with an officious, stuffy little man seemed to justify her theory. Arina had gone back to her very junior associate position at a small law firm, figuring that was that. Being called for a second interview had been a surprise. This time it'd been conducted by two middle-aged women who were unmistakably American. Arina wasn't that surprised. Everyone knew the Queen was American. It made sense she'd have fellow countrymen on staff. In any event, they were much more pleasant and, despite their fluency in Russian, Arina had taken the opportunity to practice her English. This time she'd gone back to work feeling somewhat puzzled. The interview hadn't really seemed like an interview. They'd discussed family, politics, food, careers, travel and a host of other topics over some very good coffee and pastry.

The call for a third interview got her fired. Angry and exasperated, she'd nearly lost it when she discovered the pompous little man waiting for her. Exerting a self-control honed by years of helping raise her eight younger siblings, she'd answered all his questions only to have him leave abruptly after twenty minutes. His secretary came in a few minutes later to finish the interview. Arina felt somewhat sorry for the young woman, having to deal with such an irritating boss. The interview dwindled into casual conversation and Arina had finally admitted she didn't think she'd enjoy bowing and scraping to some over-privileged, irresponsible member of the royal elite. The secretary had wryly agreed and then turned the tables, asking Arina what she would do in a position of power. It wasn't just an idle question and Arina found herself having to defend her ideas in ways she hadn't considered before. Time slipped away as she got caught up in the debate, enjoying give and take with someone who was equally intelligent and passionate.

Eventually, the secretary had glanced at her watch and, looking somewhat shocked at the time, had apologized profusely. Arina had waved it off, but accepted the young woman's invitation to dinner, knowing her resources were now limited. She didn't suspect anything when they remained in the palace but when they entered a small but elegantly appointed dining room, Arina began to sense that something was amiss. Then the pompous little man appeared and introduced his 'secretary' as the Princess Margarete Catalin Dzurick, the Heir Apparent. Arina had been speechless in shock. That shock had been compounded when the two older women from her second interview entered and she discovered she'd had coffee and danish with the Queen and her assistant, Liz Parker. Dinner had been a blur but after dessert, the Princess had taken her aside and gravely offered her the position of personal assistant. Numbly, Arina had asked for time to think it over, but by the time she'd reached her tiny, third-story flat, she knew what she wanted. She moved into an apartment in the palace the next day.

The job had proven to be complex and challenging and Arina discovered that she had found her niche. She liked the future Queen and the rest of the royal family as well. Even Daniel Rica slowly improved upon continued exposure. There were times when she thought she'd pull out her hair and times when she made mistakes, but Liz Parker was always there to help out and steer her in the right direction. When their breaks overlapped, Liz would offer dryly humorous stories of her own difficulties in dealing with her best friend's ascension to royalty. It had given Arina hope that she would eventually master the position.

Now this had happened and Arina hadn't been sure what to do. Word had trickled through the initial chaos that Carol Dzurick was missing and Gheorghe had resumed the throne. Arina had bullied her way onto the escort helicopter that had accompanied the medivac copter when it transported the Prince and Queen Margarete to the trauma center. Now she was hearing that Liz Parker was under house arrest. She'd stuck with security like a burr and when Queen Margarete was moved to a private room, Arina hadn't raised any eyebrows when she planted herself outside the door along with the guards. The doctors wouldn't let her to see the Queen and she'd been biding her time. When the Princesses were finally allowed in, she'd known she would called in next.

Cat looked from Arina to her twin. "Tell her what's going on," she asked Mo, wearily. Her energy was waning fast.

Arina's eyebrows had risen as Mo related what she'd done. She'd met the Rabbs earlier and heard the story about the terrorist attack they'd foiled in America from El and Nicky. When Mo finished, Arina looked at Cat, "Your political opponents could make the case that they're an invading force. It would be ridiculous, of course, and no court would take it seriously, but the words would be out there and that's all they'll really care about. Those four Americans will multiply like rabbits in the media," she added dryly, "until they become a division of paratroopers intent upon overthrowing our country like the Soviets did."

Mo groaned, dropping her head into her hands while El asked, "What can we do?"

Arina frowned thoughtfully, "Talk to the media first. If you'll allow me, I can do that. Colonel Rabb and the others are on special assignment at the specific request of the monarchy." She looked at the sisters apologetically, "The true problem right now is your father. He's essentially overthrown your government. The anti-royalist movement will use this in an attempt to abolish the monarchy entirely."

Cat closed her eyes for a few moments. When she opened them, she looked at Arina, "I need my doctor in here, please." When Arina left, Cat looked at her sisters, "Would you ask the guard to come in? I need a phone."

Mo moved back to the side of her bed as El went to the door. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to call Field Marshall Cvetkovic and tell him Colonel Mac is acting specifically on my orders and to render any assistance she requires," Cat replied, "and we pray that no one shoots first and asks questions later." She eyed her sister, "And then I'm going back to the palace."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Southeastern Bacovia

0410 Local

"If you pull that trigger, you'd better put the muzzle to your own head next," Pick's voice cut across the tense tableau as Mac and Lt. Gosin stared at each other. "We're acting on the orders of Princess Natalya. If her mother dies because of you, I guarantee she'll have you executed for treason."

"You're lying," Lt. Gosin growled, his weapon still pointed at Mac's head. "You're one of them."

"Think, Lieutenant," Dubby joined in, "The Colonel's unarmed. She's made no threatening moves. Shoot and you've murdered an American military officer and a close friend of the royal family for no apparent reason."

"She betrayed them!" the Lieutenant retorted, shifting his stance nervously. The sudden rage that had prompted him to draw his weapon was fading rapidly. He didn't understand exactly what had happened. Another idea popped into his head and he tightened his grip on the pistol, "How else would she know how to find the terrorists? Maybe her husband wasn't kidnapped at all. What if he's the real kidnapper? This could be a plot by your CIA to bring down our country and make it a territory of the United States!"

Mac stared at him in disbelief and slowly drew herself up, her voice icy, "That's completely unfounded. Stand down, Lieutenant. You're in over your head." She watched a confused look dash across his face, and sighed inwardly. She'd seen that same look countless times on Avis. She moderated her tone, softening her voice and her stance, "Call your commanding officer, Lt. Gosin. You're exceeding your authority." She was giving him an out and prayed fervently that he was smart enough to take it. He held on for another few seconds before abruptly lowering his pistol and snapping an order to his men. Mac refused to show any sort of reaction as the Lieutenant spun on his heel and marched back to his command post. They were still being held at gunpoint by the remaining soldiers.

Once the Lieutenant was out of sight, the soldiers glanced at each other and relaxed somewhat. Mac could tell they'd been as surprised as she was at the Lieutenant's actions. Behind her, Tink took the opportunity to lean slightly towards Pick, his voice barely above a whisper, "'Executed'? Really? That's what you came up with?"

"You think I'm kidding?" Pick replied equally softly, while watching their guards carefully. "You didn't see her. She could've scared the God's honest truth out of a politician in the middle of a campaign."

"You rethinking things?" Tink raised an eyebrow.

"Not a chance," Pick smiled smugly, "I can't wait for her to meet my Grandma Etta - two peas in a pod. When those two team up at the next family gathering, my brothers won't know what hit 'em."

"Mr. Tyler."

Pick's eyes widened as he stiffened, "Ma'am?"

"Is there anything I need to know?" Her voice was deceptively calm. Mac still stood in front facing away from the two, nearly at parade rest with her hands clasped behind her back. No one, least of all, the soldiers watching her, could have guessed at the turmoil that roiled her insides. Time was slipping away. Instead of stealing a march on the kidnappers, they would be forced to give chase. She wouldn't let herself consider the consequences.

"No, ma'am." Pick glanced at Tink, "Mo had the authority to do what she did." He was fairly certain about that and held his breath until Mac silently nodded. Sharing a look with Tink, he exhaled softly.

The minutes dragged on and Mac began to vaguely wonder if the Lieutenant had gone to find his CO in person. It was getting harder to maintain the facade of emotionless Marine officer. She eyed the two soldiers that had been left to guard them. The rest had returned to their duties at the checkpoint. They watched her with equal dispassion, their rifles held casually at the ready. As maddening as this delay was, she couldn't help being impressed with their discipline and training.

Thirty-seven minutes after he left, Lt. Gosin finally reappeared and walked slowly towards their group. It was all Mac could do not to snap at the man to move. Instead, she waited in silence until he finally stopped in front of her. Never quite meeting her eye, he waved a hand, "You may go."

Not quite believing, Mac stared at him, "Excuse me?"

"You are free to go," he repeated gruffly, a hint of anger in his voice. He jabbed a finger towards the looming mountain range, "Go." Turning towards Dubby, Pick and Tink, he gave them a hard stare, "You may stay here if you wish. The Bymer Pass is suicide. You do not have to follow this woman."

Dubby glanced at the other two before looking back at the Lieutenant, "We know." He turned to Mac, "Whenever you're ready, ma'am." Mac nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak. Pivoting, she headed back to the van. Dubby gestured for Pick and Tink to get in the back seat, "I'll drive for a bit. You two rest." Climbing into the driver's seat, he waited for Mac to settle in the passenger's seat, "Where to?"

Mac pulled out the map, while Pick leaned forward. He pointed to a spot, "We're about here."

Mac pointed to a second spot, "And we need to get here." The knot of tension in her gut took another twist as she realized they had a good hour of traveling ahead of them. This delay had cost them dearly.

Thursday

Trailhead to the Bymer Pass

Southeasten Bacovia

0500 Local

Harm and Carol limped into a clearing beside a small outbuilding and stopped, panting from the exertion. A man and three rangy mountain ponies were waiting. One was packed with supplies while the other two had saddles. A hard jab in Harm's back from Gregor's staff sent them stumbling before Harm managed to get his good leg under him again. Gregor strolled by them, jerking a thumb at Harm, "Get him on. Tie him to the saddle if you have to." After the man stepped up, Gregor grabbed Carol by the arm and pulled her away. "We have a lesson, Colonel," he murmured, smiling as she stiffened, her eyes wide. She started struggling, obviously afraid of what he had planned. Rabb began yelling furiously - a sound that was abruptly cut off as Gregor lashed out the staff, dropping the JAG officer in a unconscious heap on the ground. Tossing the staff aside, he glared at the horse wrangler, "Have him on when I get back." Gregor continued towards the building ignoring MacKenzie's increasingly frantic efforts.

Turning the corner, he swung her in front of him and backhanded her across the mouth, splitting her lip. The force spun her around and she hit the wall face first. He followed quickly and pinned her there with his body as her legs began to buckle. Between his weight and the pressure on her injured hand, she was effectively immobilized. Gregor chuckled softly as he pulled out a well-worn loop of rope and slid it over her head. Twisting it tightly around her neck, he carefully cut off her air. He eased his weight back slightly at the same time, allowing her to struggle and use up oxygen more quickly until she was dizzy from the lack. When her eyes began to roll back, he loosened the loop slightly while working his other hand under her shirt. He wanted her incapable of coherent thought, not completely unconscious.

He'd learned that cutting off all but the bare minimum of air achieved that goal admirably and he'd become quite adept. Drugs were dangerous and unpredictable in comparison. Gregor slid his hand down, smiling as her body automatically responded to his touch. Continuing to amuse himself as he released the rope completely, Gregor waited while she revived, enjoying the horror in her eyes when she realized what he was doing and, more importantly, how she'd reacted. He put his mouth close to her ear, "Enjoyed it, did you? When we have more time, I will show you what true ecstasy is." She turned her head away, silent tears working their way out. Pulling the rope off entirely, he stepped away and watched her slide to the ground. He was well on his way to breaking her spirit. By the time they reached the border, he would own her, body and soul.

Gregor sauntered back around the corner. A disheveled looking Timur had finally joined the horse wrangler. Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, "Get the woman and put her on the other horse." He walked over to where Rabb was slumped over the neck of his mount. The tall Commander made the little horse look even smaller. The men had taken him at his word and lashed Rabb securely to the saddle. After a couple of hours of riding, not being able to change position would probably hurt like hell. Gregor grabbed Rabb by the hair and lifted his head, shaking it slightly. As the man's eyes slowly opened, Gregor leered unpleasantly, "Your wife is quite good. You were a lucky man."

He stepped back as Rabb reacted in rage, struggling to free himself. Spooked, the horse leaped sideways and tried to bolt, whirling and bucking in a circle as the wrangler kept a firm hold of the lead and tried to calm him. By the time he succeeded, Rabb was slumped over again. The pain from his knee had probably been excruciating. Gregor grunted in satisfaction. Now the man knew better than to struggle. The trip would be quieter with both captives.

Walking to the pack horse, he pulled the lead rope free and led it back to the group. Timur had gotten MacKenzie on her mount. She sat with shoulders slumped and head down, eyes fixed on the horse's mane. Gregor smiled, pleased with himself. Perhaps when they made camp tonight, he would take her aside again. He gestured for the others to get moving and started down the trail. He kept the pace brisk for now, knowing they would have to slow soon enough as the path became more dangerous. He frowned slightly at the thought, glancing over his shoulder at MacKenzie again. Had Timur thought to tie her to the saddle? He'd have to check. It wouldn't do if the woman decided to commit suicide and threw herself off a cliff. He wouldn't get the rest of his money unless he delivered both of them. MacKenzie was the bonus he'd receive for succeeding. He was looking forward to it.


	21. Chapter 21

Thanks for the reviews everyone. Still got a little ways to go - lots of threads to pull together yet, but we are getting to the end.

Chapter 21

Wednesday,

Near the Rabb-McGinley house

Falls Church, VA

2210 Local

Frankie Delgado carefully looked around before climbing out of his car and slinging a knapsack over his shoulder. He'd been by the neighborhood yesterday, sizing up his target. He'd also carried a sheaf of bogus flyers about a missing cat. Whenever some housewife or retiree stared at him suspiciously, he'd walk over and ask about the cat. It was the perfect cover. Once he explained about his frantic wife and poor, missing Fluffy, nobody cared if he looked around their homes or into their yards. No one seemed to notice that those particular houses and yards gave him different views of the Rabb place. He'd been back earlier today and not only did almost everyone ignore him, but the few that did pay attention actually waved and wished him luck.

Strolling down the sidewalk, occasionally shining a flashlight under cars for appearance sake, he worked his way to the Rabb property. As soon as he was safely hidden in the shadows of the trees, he hurried along the fence line. This would be one of his more elaborate fires. He'd rigged up timers to his firebombs so they could all detonate at once. His employer had specified that nothing was to be left standing. He'd also specified that there be no survivors. Frankie had nearly balked at that but the amount of money offered had been too good. Reaching a point where he could approach the house unseen, he slid through the fence and scurried to the edge of the tree line.

He froze for a moment while looking at the cars and swore under his breath. A third car - with government plates? Who the hell was here? How they find out? He stayed crouched in the shadows while he considered what to do. He didn't want to push his luck and come back yet again. It had to be a coincidence. There was no way anyone could know what he was planning. Frankie was a professional, he didn't boast about jobs after a few beers. If anything, he took his money and relocated. He hadn't done that over the last two jobs but was definitely planning to after this one. Deaths always made the cops a bit more intense and there was no sense in being complacent. He looked at the house again and made his decision. In the scheme of things, what was another body or two? Keeping low and staying in the shadows, he made his way to the barn. He'd set up his devices in the outbuildings first and finish at the house. It would keep the chance of discovery to a minimum and he'd be able to detonate almost as soon as he placed the last one.

Moving cautiously to the barn doors, he frowned at the padlock. He could break it easily enough but those big sliding doors would be rattling noisily while he did. He continued to the corner. There had to be a smaller access door somewhere. Every barn had one. Frankie smiled as he slid around the far side, there it was. It was padlocked as well but as with many barns, the door opened outward and he could get to the hinges. A few minutes with a power screwdriver and the hinges were off. Carefully pivoting the door open around the hasp and lock, he leaned it against the barn wall and stepped inside. Pulling out a tiny flashlight, he took a quick look around and smiled. The barn had to be a hundred years old, the wood would go up in seconds.

Moving past a row of old stalls, Frankie stepped out into the main aisle, unslinging his knapsack. Holding the flashlight in his teeth, he crouched down and removed one of his devices and a phillips screwdriver. Placing it against the base of a stall, he attached the wires to the timer and tightened the screws. Straightening up, he looked around again and frowned thoughtfully at the tractor. There should be a fuel can nearby. That would help the fire catch even faster. Frankie had taken a couple of steps in that direction when he heard a growl. Spinning, he caught sight of a shape just before teeth sank into his calf. Eyes bulging from the pain, he kept his jaws clamped shut as he reached down and grabbed fur, trying to pull the dog off. The teeth shifted and fastened on his wrist. Gasping, Frankie brought his other fist down as hard as he could on the dog's head. The pain in his wrist flared for a second before the dog's jaws relaxed as it collapsed on the floor. Swearing quietly, he gave the dog a vicious kick, sending it spinning away.

A flashlight beam caught him square in the eyes, blinding him as a man's voice ordered him to freeze.

Bringing up his bleeding wrist to shield his eyes, Frankie started whining, "Hey, c'mon, your dog's vicious, man. It tried to kill me! I was just lookin' for a place to sleep tonight."

A man moved further into the barn and Frankie was dismayed to see he was holding a gun. He tried for a note of indignant outrage, "What's with the gun? Man, you're as crazy as that dog. I wasn't hurtin' anything. I just wanted a roof over my head. You can't shoot me for that." He turned and cowered a little, shielding the view as his other hand slid to his back pocket and pulled out the screwdriver.

"Who are you?" The man was edging to the side, obviously concerned about his dog. He stepped into a patch of faint illumination seeping in from the outside lights and Frankie's gaze narrowed. This was O'Hara.

"Name's Paco, man. Dude, I'm bleeding here. I need a doctor bad. Just call the cops already, okay?" Frankie shifted slowly, gauging the distance. "Man, that dog better not be having rabies or nothing." The dog chose that moment to whimper and O'Hara glanced down. Frankie launched himself, diving at the older man as he swung the screwdriver wildly. He barely made it, crashing into O'Hara right at the knees, knocking the man backwards and through the boards of an old stall. Cursing at the flaring pain from the dog bites, Frankie scrambled up and froze for a split second when he finally located the screwdriver. It was buried halfway into the old man's leg. Grinning at his luck, Frankie climbed forward over the groaning man, intent on the gun. Once he had that, he'd have control again. He'd torch the barn and get the hell out. He'd figure something else out later for the rest of the place.

Casting anxiously about, he finally spotted it and limped over to pick it up. As he bent down, the gun slid out of his reach. Frankie swore and followed, reaching again. Once more the gun moved and Frankie growled in anger. What the hell? He straightened up, looking around the barn. "Whoever you are, get out here where I can see you." Nothing moved and Frankie hurried back to O'Hara. Grabbing the screwdriver, he yanked it out, ignoring the older man's anguished cry. Gritting his teeth at his own increasing pain, he grabbed O'Hara's collar and twisted it tight. Grunting with the effort, he yanked upwards and shoved the tip of the bloody screwdriver against the man's neck. Frankie looked out across the barn again, "Come out now, or he's dead."

A moment later, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. A figure was coalescing in front of him, fiery white flames slowly outlining a woman. "Madre de dios," he breathed, his grip loosening on O'Hara's collar. It suddenly sped towards him and Frankie yelped in terror as he threw himself backwards. A force hit him in the chest, lifting him up off the floor and smashing him against the wall of the barn. Gasping, he found himself pinned there, several feet up. Nearly hysterical in fear, his eyes suddenly rolled back in his head as he fainted. A moment later, he dropped to the floor.

Kate stared at the man, still furious. She turned to look at Phin, "Can you keep an eye on him? I need to get Gibbs."

Phin nodded slowly, "You have to teach me that."

"Sure, but for now, if he moves at all, drop something heavy on his head." Kate turned towards the house and vanished.

o o o o o

Wednesday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

2330 Local

Ziva David threaded her way through the police, firefighters and various sundry personnel that typically littered crime scenes. This one had a few extra in the form of FBI agents, headed by Tobias Fornell. She shook her head. Gibbs had finally told the team about Bacovia and what Don Eppes had told him. Fornell would no doubt have a few words for Eppes although she could understand the LA agent's reasoning. No one but Gibbs and his famous gut would have taken the man so seriously with so little to go on. She headed for the ambulance that had yet to leave with Matthew O'Hara, certain she would find her boss somewhere nearby. Walking up, she could hear the sounds of an argument.

Matt scowled at the EMT, "I don't need a hospital. Bandage me up and let me go."

"Sir, that's a puncture wound. You'll need some stitches, a tetanus shot and antibiotics. I can't do that here." The young man eyed O'Hara, adding, "You need x-rays, too. You might have broken or cracked something going through those boards."

"Go, O'Hara. No one's saying they're going to admit you. You can be back in a couple of hours. We'll keep an eye on things," Gibbs stood nearby, his arms folded. He glanced at Ziva as she walked up and raised an eyebrow. She stopped a few feet away and turned a little away. Gibbs looked at the EMT, "Take him." When Matt started to protest, Gibbs cut him off, "I'll send DiNozzo to bring you back." He turned to Ziva, keeping his voice down, "What?"

"Our suspect is awake but I think he has ratted his brain," Ziva glanced around, keeping her voice down.

Gibbs smothered a smile. David was working hard to master American idioms. Some were more successful than others. "What's he saying?"

"That he was attacked by a demon of some sort," Ziva snorted. "Maybe he meant the dog."

Gibbs gave her an enigmatic grin, "I don't think it was a demon. Where's McGee?"

Ziva frowned. She hated it when he got cryptic. "He's in the house with the girl and Fornell."

"Has he identified this guy yet?" Gibbs turned towards the house.

Ziva fell in alongside, "Not yet. He is obviously an arsonist. The knapsack we found had incendiaries with timers. One had already been placed in the barn. There was enough to burn everything here to the ground."

"So that's the plan," Gibbs commented as he climbed the front steps.

"You think whoever hired this man will try again?" Ziva raised an eyebrow. With the plot uncovered and authorities alerted, she didn't think they would risk another attempt.

"I don't think they have a choice," Gibbs walked into the house. Pausing for a moment, he listened for the voices and headed down the hallway to the kitchen. He couldn't help glancing around as he walked. Earlier, something or someone, had grabbed his collar and yanked him towards the kitchen door. He'd realized that something was wrong but once he was outside, he'd been at a loss on where to go. That lasted until he was shoved towards the barn. Gibbs knew how to take a hint.

He walked into the kitchen with Ziva behind him. McGee was sitting at the kitchen table while Mattie was sitting on the floor with Patch's head in her lap. The dog rolled an eye at Gibbs and nestled her head a little more firmly, prompting more petting. Gibbs rolled an eye right back and grinned. The dog had done herself proud but he could tell she was milking the sympathy for as long as she could. He noticed a black and white cat sitting nearby with ears flicked sideways and decided he wasn't the only one who had that opinion.

"O'Hara off to the hospital?" Fornell asked from where he was leaning against a counter.

Gibbs nodded, "For now, DiNozzo will bring him back." He looked at Mattie and gestured to Ziva, "Officer David will spend the rest of the night here." Gibbs glanced back at Fornell, raising an eyebrow. He knew the agent was biting his tongue, "What?"

Fornell lifted his chin a little, "Let's take a walk." He headed out the kitchen door and Gibbs followed. Once outside, Fornell turned around and put his hands on hips, tipping his head to the side, "What the hell happened here?"

Gibbs folded his arms and shrugged, "You mean besides catching one of the bad guys?"

"I mean your perp's going out of here in a straitjacket. I don't think he came in that way. Is there anything I need to know?"

"Crime doesn't pay?" Gibbs looked at the FBI agent with a straight face, only the barest hint of amusement in his eyes.

Fornell rolled his eyes, "Seriously, Jethro, what the hell happened in that barn? Did you know this place has a reputation for being haunted?" The agent raised his hands in exasperation.

"Are you saying you think he was caught by a ghost?" Now Gibbs was grinning.

"No," Fornell replied testily, "But I don't think O'Hara caught him either." They stared at each in silence for a few seconds before Fornell huffed, shoving his hands in his coat pockets, "You want to tell me why you decided to drop in tonight? Eppes didn't have anything more than a vague theory."

"More than a theory now," Gibbs retorted, suddenly serious. "You heard about Bacovia?"

"Yeah," Fornell sighed. "I'd hate to be those two's insurance carrier. Have you heard anything new?"

"Ziva's put the word out to her contacts in Interpol. All they've come up with so far is to confirm that Bacovia's locked up tighter than a drum. Those people are pissed. What about you?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Only that Ian Edgerton has a warrant for Trask's arrest and he's headed over there." Fornell grinned at the look on Gibbs' face, "You know him? I hear he's one of the top snipers in the world."

"Fifth," Gibbs countered, "Yeah, I know him." His phone rang just then and he pulled it out, scowling when he saw the ID. Flipping it open, he growled, "What, McGee?" Dammit, he'd only been outside for five minutes. Gibbs' eyebrows rose a moment later, "Be right there." He started for the house.

Fornell shook his head before hurrying to catch up, "What's going on?" It was beginning to feel like the question of the day.

"Bureaucrats," Gibbs threw over his shoulder as he pulled open the back porch screen door. He walked into the kitchen and stopped, taking in the scene. There was a man backed up against the kitchen wall with Ziva standing in front, glaring at him. Mattie was still on the floor, hugging the dog and looking like she was thinking about crying.

McGee was standing between the two. His relief was evident when he saw Gibbs, "Boss, this is Officer Connelly with Animal Control. He wants to take the dog."

"That dog is a stray that attacked and bit somebody. I have to take it to the Shelter for quarantine and evaluation. It's the law," Connelly sounded caught between indignation and fear.

"The dog did what she was supposed to - she protected the property and this family," Ziva growled back. She glared over her shoulder at Gibbs, "She should not be punished for this. It's outrageous."

"It's not - ," Connelly closed his mouth with a snap as Ziva turned back to him. He turned a desperate look towards Gibbs, "Call her off."

Gibbs exhaled softly, "Officer Da-vid."

Ziva reluctantly backed up. When Gibbs drew her name out like that, he expected obedience. She folded her arms, "It is not right."

Connelly huffed, straightening out his uniform with indignant little jerks, "I should file a complaint. I don't have to put up with this sort of behavior." He pulled a leash out of his pocket and gestured to Mattie, "Give me the dog."

"She can't." Everyone in the room turned to look at Fornell. He stared defiantly back, "The dog's evidence in a possible terrorism case. FBI trumps Animal Control."

"Are you serious?" Connelly stared as Fornell nodded, "Man, you're crazier than the psycho chick." He jumped backwards and yelped when he hit the kitchen wall as Ziva spun towards him again.

"You should leave," Gibbs stated quietly. "Now." Connelly looked like he was thinking about arguing until Gibbs took a half-step towards him. Wilting, the Animal Control officer pivoted and hurried out of the kitchen. Gibbs turned to McGee, "Make sure he leaves."

"You got it, Boss," McGee walked out as well.

"Thank you, Agent Fornell," Mattie finally spoke up. She glanced around the room, sniffling a little, "Thanks, everyone."

Fornell gave the teenager a kind smile, "Don't mention it." His smile became more of a grin as he tipped his head to side, "Just make sure you take good care of my 'evidence'." He turned back to Gibbs, "I'll talk to you tomorrow." With that, he walked out, following the same path that Connelly and McGee took.

Mattie watched him leave before turning to look at Gibbs and Ziva, "You think they're going to try again, don't you?"

Gibbs hesitated for a moment, "Yeah, I think they will." He raised an eyebrow, "Doesn't mean they're going to succeed."

"I don't want to leave," Mattie lifted her chin. "This is our home. I won't abandon it."

"Okay," Gibbs nodded solemnly, hiding a grin. Mattie was doing a credible imitation of Rabb. The three of them turned when McGee walked back into the kitchen. Gibbs frowned, "McGee?"

Tim McGee opened his mouth as he looked over at Gibbs and paused. After a few seconds, he closed it again, "Umm, nothing, Boss. Connelly's gone." He sat down at the kitchen table, looking at his laptop. It was still scanning through the facial recognition. He stared blankly at the screen while going over what he'd just seen. Connelly had gotten a bit braver and a lot angrier, the further he'd gotten from Ziva and Gibbs, his muttering diatribe becoming louder and more offensive. Tim hadn't reacted. The guy had been humiliated, he was entitled to blow off steam.

They'd been almost to the foyer when Connelly had made a particularly crude comment. The temperature in the hallway suddenly plunged and Connelly had stumbled forward like he'd been shoved. Regaining his footing, he'd spun angrily towards Tim only to abruptly stagger backwards. Another unseen shove had him bouncing into the wall beside the front door. By then, Connelly's eyes were wide with fear. Tim stood with his mouth open as the door slowly opened on its own. The Animal Control officer hadn't wasted any time and bolted through as soon as he could fit. The door slammed shut right after.

Standing stock still, Tim had blinked a couple of times as his eyes darted about the foyer. Finally, he'd offered a tentative 'thank you' and nearly leapt out of his skin when he heard a whispery 'Don't mention it, McGee' in return. Fornell had walked by next and given him an amused smile while sauntering past, asking, "What's the matter, McGee? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Tim gave himself a mental shake, forcing himself back to the present and concentrating on his laptop again. He kept telling himself he'd been imagining things but deep down, he knew he wasn't. He'd recognized that whispering voice. It was Kate Todd.

o o o o o

Thursday,

On the trail to the Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

0820 Local

Harm accepted a bowl of food from the little man, somewhat surprised that they were bothering to feed him at all. They'd stopped twenty minutes ago to eat and rest. The bearded bastard in charge hadn't appeared all that happy about it but Harm was more than grateful for the break. He frowned worriedly as he watched the man put the other bowl on the ground next to Carol. She'd barely acknowledged either the man or the food as she sat huddled in on herself. Gritting his teeth, Harm slowly edged a little closer to her. Glancing around again, he leaned in, speaking softly, "You need to eat." He felt a sharp pang when she flinched away. Had that son of a bitch truly raped her? He didn't know how to help. He leaned in again, his voice even softer, "I'm sorry." His worry increased ten-fold when she finally glanced at him. Her face was bruised and swollen, a testament to the brutal treatment she'd received, but it was the hopelessness in her eyes that really did it. Harm looked down at the ground, carefully containing his rage and fear. Finally, he checked their surroundings again, making sure no one was close enough to hear. He ducked his head, "Please. You have to hang on. Mac's coming."

Her eyes widened for just a moment before she deflated again, shaking her head. "You don't know that," she replied tonelessly.

Harm looked over his shoulder again before turning back. "Yes, I do," he whispered fiercely. "She's getting closer all the time. Trust me. We have to hold on." She stared at him for a few seconds when her eyes widened in fear and her face paled. Tensing, Harm turned to see Gregor stalking towards them.

"Get away from each other. No talking!" Gregor snarled. Damn Timur - he had no more sense than a rock at times. Gregor wanted the Americans cowed and demoralized. That meant keeping them separate. He turned his glare to MacKenzie, feeling somewhat mollified as she frantically moved away from her husband. He folded his arms, leering at her, "Perhaps another lesson?" The stark fear on her face was supremely satisfying. Rabb, on the other hand, looked like he was contemplating murder. It was tempting to take the woman right now in front of JAG officer, to drive home the man's helplessness but Gregor was afraid it would backfire. He'd been awake for over twenty-four hours and it would be humiliating to start something he couldn't finish. That didn't mean there weren't other options. Turning away from MacKenzie, Gregor took a casual step towards Rabb and lashed out with his foot, catching the leg with the bad knee. The man collapsed with a guttural groan, curling on his side. Smiling now, Gregor walked back towards the fire and picked up a bedroll. Spreading it out, he looked at the wrangler, "One hour, no more."

Josef grunted sourly in acknowledgement, watching as the bully and his toady dropped off to sleep. He didn't have much use for the man but he'd accepted the money and it did put food on the table. There were very few who could do what he did - travel the Bymer Pass and live to tell about it. Josef had lived in the shadow of the Pass all his life as had all his family. It was dangerous but there were ways to survive. Getting up, he moved to check his horses. They were the real reason he'd been hired in the first place. The bully wasn't interested in Josef's family history and Josef didn't much feel like enlightening him. He skirted past the prisoners, steadfastly ignoring them. He didn't like how they were being treated - only cowards beat defenseless women - but he had no say and it wasn't any of his business. Murmuring softly, he moved along the picket line, patting necks, checking backs and running his hands down their legs.

"The bay has a stone, off back."

Josef turned and looked at the woman in surprise. Moving to the bay, he picked up the right hindleg to check the hoof and his eyebrows rose. Sliding a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a hoofpick and pried out the stone. Carefully checking to make sure there'd been no bruising, he put the hoof down and regarded the woman with new-found interest. "You know horses?" he rumbled softly.

She looked at him for a long moment. "Grew up with them," she answered finally.

He nodded thoughtfully. It had been apparent from the beginning that she was comfortable on horseback even after suffering the trauma of the bully having his way with her. He ducked his head at the memory, uncomfortable now that he'd ignored what was going on. There really wasn't anything he could have done but perhaps he should have protested anyway. "You should rest," he stated gruffly. "We will be moving again soon."

The woman shrugged listlessly and Josef felt the weight of guilt increase. There was another brief silence before the woman commented, "Good bone, you raise them?"

Josef couldn't helping smiling a little with pride as he nodded, patting the chestnut on the shoulder, "And my father before me and his father before him." Before the wrangler knew it, he and the woman were quietly discussing temperament, performance and conformation. All too soon, Josef squinted up at the sun and sighed, "It is almost time to wake the bully." He shifted uncomfortably at the fear that filled the woman's face. "I am sorry for this. When the man hired me and my horses, I did not know."

Carol shook her head, as despair and dread crept back in. For these past few minutes, there'd almost been a feeling of normalcy. The contrast cut through her like a knife. Never in her life had she been in such constant pain and terror. She was drowning in guilt and shame. She'd been overwhelmed in a tidal wave of vacant, visceral pleasure that had dissolved into horror when she realized he'd molested her and she'd enjoyed it. She had betrayed herself, her husband and her family. When she could breathe again and the dizziness vanished completely, the horror had increased ten-fold. She knew it would happen again and that she'd be unable to control herself. Never in her life had Carol wished so fervently for death. She looked up at the sound of Josef's voice.

He was stroking the neck of the bay Harm had been on, "I will put you on Gavrill this time. He is the best of the best. Smart, fearless, sure-footed as a cat, you will enjoy riding him." He stared at her intently for a long moment before turning and walking back to the fire.

From his position nearby, Harm watched Carol through half-closed eyes. He could just hear the soft conversation in Russian. While he didn't understand what they were saying, it was fairly obvious they were discussing horses. That was fine by him. Anything that took her mind off their situation. He was deeply worried about her mental state. She was a strong woman but nothing could have prepared her for what she'd had to endure. She had to hang on. He hadn't merely been trying to bolster her spirits - Mac was on her way and he knew she wouldn't be alone. He still had no idea what was behind this and that was another source of worry. Harm shifted and winced. Something was broken in there and the constant pain was wearing him down. When Mac and the troops finally arrived, there wouldn't be much he'd be able to do to help.


	22. Chapter 22

Sorry for the delay in posting - and I'm afraid the next chapter might be delayed as well. I've gotten slammed at work and so, instead to getting most of my writing done over the weekend like I normally do, I'll be working. *yippee*

Thanks for the reviews - always nice to hear from folks. Still have a little ways to go yet in the story although I don't see this one running the length that 'Catspaw' did. Of course, that's never a certainty. It will depend on how long it takes to wrap everything up. Like I've mentioned before, there's a lot of threads to pull in. For those of you who are convinced I'm trying to kill you with suspense, that's not my intention. I'm jumping from point to point mostly because a lot of what's happening is occurring at nearly the same time and I'm trying to present it in a somewhat coherent fashion. Sometimes it feels like I'm juggling bowling balls while trying to tapdance - not a pretty sight.

Enough rambling...

Chapter 22

Thursday,

Trailhead to the Bymer Pass

0620 Local

Gunny Walters pulled the van over and turned off the engine. He looked at Mac, "This is as far as wheels can take us, ma'am." He glanced in the back where Pick and Tink were slowly rousing, "Rise and shine, gentlemen."

Opening the door, Mac stepped outside and stretched carefully. The last eight hours and ten minutes felt like ages ago and exhaustion was hovering at the fringes. Despite that, a sense of urgency was riding her, refusing to let her stop. She looked over at Gunny Walters as he climbed out, "Would you get everything organized, please?" She nodded to the small farmhouse off to the side, "I'm going to see if anyone over there saw anything."

"Yes, ma'am," Gunny directed a look at Tyler as he and Tink stepped out of the vehicle. Pick nodded at once and jogged off to catch up with the Colonel. They stopped at the fence gate. Mac saw a small, tousled head appear in a window and disappear. She glanced at Pick and turned back to the house, calling out in Russian, "Hello!"

A few seconds passed and then the front door opened and a middle-aged man stepped out. Mac could see him staring nervously towards the van where Tink and Dubby were pulling out their equipment. He looked back at her, "What do you want?"

"Information," Mac called back.

He hesitated for a moment before moving a little further forward, "What kind of information?"

"Did a group pass by here in the last few hours or so?"

The man retreated a few steps, looking alarmed, "I don't know anything."

Mac followed after him into the yard, "Please, wait. These men are criminals. My husband and a friend were taken by them." She mentally crossed her fingers, "I discovered they were coming this way, I just need to know when. I have to find them." He stopped, staring at the ground. Mac continued to slowly approach him, "No one's trying to blame you for anything. There was no way you could have known and they are dangerous. Please, if you know anything at all - I need your help."

The man's shoulders sagged a little and he turned around, "A man came here before dawn. He wanted to hire a guide and three horses to go through the Pass. It… it was a great deal of money. Times are hard. Papa told me he'd do it and to get back to the house and lock the doors. He did not trust them."

"How many?" Mac asked intently. If they were outnumbered, she'd have to rethink her pursuit.

"Three men and a woman," he shuffled his feet a little. "The tall man and the woman - their hands were tied and the man was limping badly. We didn't know about them at first and then it was too late." He spread his hands, looking defensive, "I have a wife and children to think about. We did not want any trouble."

Mac stiffened, doing her best to maintain a neutral expression. Harm was hurt but he was still alive and so was Carol. She had to focus on that.

"Why didn't you call the police after they left?" Pick asked. He'd walked up behind Mac.

The man stared at him, scowling, "Call how?" He waved a hand, "No telephone lines come up here and cell phones do not work." He folded his arms and watched as Pick pulled out his cell phone, raising an eyebrow when the young man shook his head.

"He's right, ma'am," Pick put the cell away with a sigh. Help would not be a phone call away.

"What do you do if there's an emergency?" Mac couldn't help asking as she glanced towards the house.

"We handle what we can or go down the mountain," the man shrugged. It was a way of life out here.

"When did these men leave?" Mac held her breath as she went back to her first concern. It didn't sound like they were as far behind as she feared.

The man shrugged again, "First light - maybe two hours, maybe less." He took a hard look at Mac, "My father, Josef, he is there for the horses - nothing more. He is not one of them."

Mac nodded, "I'll do what I can to protect him. What does he look like?"

"His height," the man nodded at Pick, "Wiry, white-haired with a mustache. The man who hired him is a big man, barrel-chested with dark hair and a full beard. He is dangerous." He paused for a moment studying her, before continuing heavily, "I know that you intend to follow them but this is the Bymer Pass. It is more dangerous than the men you chase. If you can, stop them before they reach Tchort's Forest on the other side of the pass. It is an evil place and they will be stronger there."

Mac frowned, "But you and your father have been there before?"

He glanced away, "My family has been here for generations. We know what we face. You must be resolute. Fear and despair can mean death."

Mac stared at him silently, her expression set. There was no way she would break off her pursuit. "Thank you," she said finally. She stood for a more few seconds before reaching into a pocket. Pulling out a handful of the local currency, Mac held it out to the man, "I'd like to hire you. Do you speak any english?"

The man eyed her and the money cautiously before answering in heavily accented english, "A little, what do you want?"

Mac took a breath, "I want you to go down the mountain and make a phone call." She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her contact list. Selecting one, she handed her phone and the money over, "Call this number and tell the man, 'Colonel Rabb and the Bymer Pass. Send help.' He'll know what to do." The man nodded and Mac turned away, heading back to Dubby and Tink. Pick fell in alongside. Neither spoke as they made their way back. There wasn't much more to say.

"Tchort's Forest?" Dubby asked. Mac had just finished relaying what she'd learned.

"Tchort is the Russian name for Satan," Mac answered. She looked at the three men, "One last time, none of you have to go. This is my fight."

Dubby glanced at the others, "Sorry, ma'am, but you can't stop us. We go."

Mac nodded silently. She hadn't really expected anything less but she had to try. Her sense of unease was growing but she couldn't tell if it was because of all the dire warnings she'd been getting or if it was something more. She was too tired to tell. Moving to the backpacks lined up against the van, she picked hers up and slid into the harness, grimacing a little. It wasn't light and her arm still hurt. Fastening the buckles, she moved to the back of the van where the rifles were laid out. They were high-powered hunting rifles. Dubby and Tink had already attached the scopes and slings. Choosing one, she checked to make sure the magazine was full and the chamber clear before slinging it over her good shoulder. Turning back around, she saw that Dubby, Pick and Tink were ready to go as well. Taking a breath, she turned towards the trail, "Let's go."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Romania border of Bacovia

0710 Local

Harper stood outside the tent, trying to decide what he needed to say. The initial plan had seemed to have gone off without a flaw. Dostovich had left his message about two packages as planned. After that, however, the wheels had come off the bus. Everyone had underestimated the Bacovian reaction and no one outside the palace had seemed to know why. Dostovich had then dropped off the radar with Rabb and MacKenzie. No one had heard from him since. The only thing Harper could be certain of was that he hadn't been caught. Bacovia was still buzzing like an angry hornets' nest. Taking a breath, he walked into the tent.

Trask looked up from the table strewn with maps, "Well?"

"Dostovich's man, Dimitri, finally showed up at the rendezvous. He doesn't know what's going on either. The last thing Dostovich told him was to dump the truck and meet him at the Kazir Pass. When he got there, the Bacovian Army was waiting. It took him this long to sneak over the border. He had to go on foot and work his way past the patrols. He's never seen anything like this." Harper sighed, "The one thing he's positive about is that there's no way to get Rabb and MacKenzie out without getting caught."

Trask leaned back, smiling smugly, "He's wrong."

"Sir?"

Trask tapped a map, "There is a way, take a look."

Harper leaned down and studied the area for a few minutes. Finally, he looked up with a frown, "The Bymer Pass? It barely qualifies. Would Dostovich take a chance like that?"

Trask smiled again, "Bring in this Dimitri and we'll ask him." Harper went to the front of the tent and stuck his head out, ordering Dimitri to be brought to them. They waited a few minutes and then a scruffy, unshaven man stepped inside along with their translator. He looked at the two men and straightened a little. "Ask him what he knows about the Bymer Pass," Trask directed the translator. They watched as the man rattled off their question. They exchanged a look when Dimitri's eyes widened in shock and a torrent of Russian followed. "Well?" Trask asked impatiently when the man finally wound down.

The translator looked at him, his own eyes wide, "He said the pass is cursed, that Satan himself lies in wait. No one goes that way and survives."

"Would Dostovich go that way?" Trask snapped, clearly unimpressed. His fingers tapped a rapid tattoo as he waited on the translation.

The translator finally shrugged, "He does not know. He keeps saying it is certain death."

"Coward," Trask dismissed the man and turned to Harper, "Dostovich is going through the Bymer Pass precisely because no one else would. We will meet him. I've waited long enough for Rabb."

Harper stared at him, "'We', sir? But you don't even know for certain if he's going that way. He could be in hiding, waiting until it's safe to move - and it's barely a mountain trail. I don't think - "

"No, you don't. That is my job," Trask rapped out, his expression dark and forbidding. "Dostovich is traveling the Bymer Pass and WE will meet him - and Rabb. Make the arrangements."

Harper flushed and spun on his heel, herding the other two men out in front of him. There were days when he regretted ever meeting the Rev. Trask.

o o o o o

Thursday,

NCIS

Washington, DC

0040 Local

Frankie Delgado sat in the interrogation room with his hands folded on the table, doing his best to portray the nervous bravado of a petty criminal. He stared at the dark-haired man seated on the other side, "For the last time, man, I was just lookin' for a place to bed down."

Tony smiled at him, "You mean 'burn' down, don't you?" He slid a picture across the table, "We found your little firebomb in the barn and a bunch more in your knapsack. Who hired you?"

"Those ain't mine," Frankie sat back, looking offended.

"Really?" Tony tipped his head to the side, "Because your grubby little prints were all over them."

"So I touched 'em," Frankie shrugged, "They were just sittin' there. I was curious. Thought they might be worth somethin'."

"So you're saying you're a thief and an arsonist?" Tony smiled brightly.

"NO! Man, what's wrong wit' you? I was looking for a place to sleep, the door was open and that sack of stuff was already sittin' there. Then, all of a sudden, some damn vicious dog is tryin' to take my leg off and a crazy old man is waving a gun at me. I was just defending myself. That's all." Frankie folded his arms and stared at DINozzo.

Behind the glass, Director Jenny Shepard raised an eyebrow at Gibbs, "If he sticks with that, he's going to walk out with a slap on the wrist - and he knows it."

Gibbs gave her a sideways look, "You buying his story?"

Jenny half-smiled, "No, but a judge might. He really didn't do anything and the self-defense is plausible. He didn't have a gun, O'Hara did."

Gibbs rounded on her, his eyebrows raised in annoyed disbelief, "So you think we should have let him kill O'Hara and burn the Rabbs' place down first - so we'd have enough evidence?"

"I didn't say that," Jenny rolled her eyes.

"Um, Boss?" McGee spoke up from behind them, "Could I give it a shot?" Gibbs turned and gave him a look and Tim flushed, "I thought maybe I'd try a different angle."

Gibbs regarded him for a few more seconds before nodding, "Go ahead."

"Thanks, Boss!" Tim hurried out. A minute later, he was sitting down where DiNozzo had been.

Frankie stared at him and grinned, "What's this? The second string?"

"Something like that," McGee gave him a thin smile, turning sideways to the table and leaning back a little. "You know, I've always been interested in the paranormal. How about you?"

Frankie tensed and then forced himself to relax, "Para-what? I don't know what you're talking about, man."

"Paranormal," Tim repeated helpfully, "You know, ghosts and things. I'll bet you didn't know that place you were trying to burn down is haunted." He held up a hand as Frankie began to protest, "Sorry, the place where you were trying to sleep." He shook his head, "Actually, for your sake, I hope that's true."

"What're you talkin' about?" Frankie demanded.

Tim folded his hands, "Well, I've heard that sometimes a spirit will switch from haunting a place to haunting a person. Doesn't happen very often and of course, it'd have to be a pretty good reason - like maybe making the ghost really mad." He smiled at Frankie, "So if you weren't trying to burn the ghost's home, it wouldn't have any reason to follow you, right?"

"You're nuts, you know that? That's the biggest load of - " Frankie stopped and gulped as the lights in the room flickered. He glared at Tim, "You did that - you got somebody outside messing wit' the lights."

Tim shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. The lights flickered again and then the monitor on the side wall turned on, its screen buzzing with snowy interference.

Suddenly paler, Frankie turned towards Tim, "Quit messin' wit' me, man. This ain't funny." McGee shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the monitor. His heart pounding, Frankie turned to look at the monitor, too. A moment later, he bolted out the chair, knocking it over as he scrambled frantically backwards until he hit the far wall. Pressed into the corner as far as he could go, he turned bulging eyes to Tim, screaming, "Get her away! Don't let her touch me! Not again! Please! I'll tell you whatever you want - I'll - I'll tell you who hired me! Make her go away!"

McGee ignored him as he stared at the vague outlines of a woman forming on the screen. "Kate?" he whispered softly.

o o o o o

Thursday,

On the trail to the Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1150 Local

A throat cleared and Carol slowly turned her head from her contemplation of Gavrill's mane. The hours were running together now in a hazy blur as the sun climbed towards noon. They'd once again leashed her wrists to the saddle with a short length of rope. Her right hand was useless as it continued to throb painfully. Even if she could reach the knots, there wasn't anything she could do about it. She hadn't been able to eat when they'd stopped earlier and it was sapping what little energy she had left. Blinking a bit, she realized the old wrangler was walking beside her. He kept his eyes forward, studiously ignoring her. "We are getting closer to the pass," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. "On the other side is Tchort's Forest and beyond that is the border." He cast a sideways glance at her before looking ahead again, cursing himself for not mentioning it earlier. From her reaction, she'd just realized where they were. He flicked a hand upwards, startling Gavrill and then made a show of calming the horse as the toady turned to see what the commotion was all about. The bully, leading the packhorse at the head of the little procession, didn't bother turning at all.

He walked along in silence for a few more minutes before venturing to speak again. "The trail turns up ahead and runs along a ridge on the side of a small valley. The trail itself is narrow at that point. It is difficult to turn around until one moves further along. The sides of the valley are steep but not impossible for a sure-footed horse and experienced rider. That valley leads back to the trail behind us."

Carol inhaled sharply, trying to process what he was telling her. Her heart was pounding frantically, making her dizzy. Dear God, they were traveling the Bymer Pass? How desperate were these people? Didn't they know how many had died along this trail? Gradually, the rest of what he'd said filtered through and she hunched in on herself, her stomach cramping painfully. Escape? He was offering her a way to escape? Almost of their own volition, her eyes traveled fearfully towards the monster who'd made her life a living hell. What would he do if she failed? Carol couldn't help the terrified shudder that ran through her, causing Gavrill to shift uneasily beneath her. God help her, she knew exactly what he'd do - and it would be the same if she didn't try at all. Carol made her decision right then. She'd escape or kill herself trying. Either way, she'd win. Slowly, she turned her head towards the wrangler. Catching his eye, she nodded once.

Josef blew out a breath as he walked along. The woman had some grit left. He'd hadn't been sure if she'd be willing. Idly twisting the lead rope in his hands, he watched the toady and the bully for a moment. Reaching over, he ran a hand along the bay's neck, "Gavrill's a fine horse, sensitive, smart. Trained him myself, you know. Don't even need a bridle or reins - if you're a good rider." He shot a look at her from under his eyebrows and relaxed slightly when she gave a minute nod. He smiled, "Now a bad rider would find himself on the ground, wondering where his horse went. Gavrill's got a sense of humor." He rattled on to keep his nerves from getting the better of him, watching as they moved closer and closer to the ridge.

Finally they made it around the bend. Carol's eyes widened as she looked down the slope. This was possible? It was nearly vertical. One misstep and she and the horse would break their necks in spectacular fashion. She shot a quick look at the wrangler. Although he was watching the trail ahead, he seemed to know she was looking at him and nodded slowly. Carol exhaled softly. A quick death would be preferable to what was waiting for her. Carefully, she gathered herself, firming her seat and bringing her legs in. Gavrill gathered himself as well, moving lightly in response to her cues. Despite the circumstances, Carol couldn't help smiling a little. The old man hadn't been exaggerating. She glanced over when the wrangler cleared his throat. "Kick me," he muttered. At her surprised look, he shook his head quickly, "It's time. Kick me away and go."

Clenching her jaw, Carol nodded. Lifting a foot, she placed it on his shoulder and shoved. He fell to the side, flinging his hands up and coincidentally, tossing the lead across her lap. Carol grabbed at it the best she could, wincing as her right hand sent a jolt of pain through her. She pivoted Gavrill with her legs and sent him forward. The moment he leaped seemed to last forever and then they were plunging downhill at breakneck speed. Carol leaned back as far as she could, keeping her weight in the stirrups and off his back. Years of experience helped her maintain the delicate balance that kept Gavrill on his feet as he galloped and slid down the slope. It moved with them like a live thing, billowing and sliding around Gavrill's legs. The experience was terrifying and exhilarating and over in a matter of seconds. Reaching level ground, Gavrill staggered a little before gathering himself and leaping forward once more. He'd managed a single stride when the first gunshot rang out.

o o o o o

Gregor spun at Timur's shout and stood slack-jawed for a second as MacKenzie sent her horse over the edge of the cliff. Swearing, he lost precious seconds trying to squeeze past the packhorse on the narrow trail. Finally through, he pounded back along the trail, pulling free the .45 he kept in his coat pocket. Coming up to the edge, he was amazed to see MacKenzie was still upright and already more than halfway down the slope. He would have sworn that was a suicide leap. His expression hardening, he took careful aim only to have it ruined when the horse wrangler grabbed his sleeve and yanked.

"That - that woman! She is stealing my best horse!" Josef gave a credible impression of angry amazement, waving his arms wildly in the bully's face. He froze a moment later when the muzzle of the gun suddenly focused on the bridge of his nose.

With an oath, Gregor shoved the man out of his way and aimed down the slope again. MacKenzie had reached the bottom and was beginning to move down the valley. Swearing angrily, Gregor fired five shots in rapid succession before the wrangler leaped on him again, taking them both to the ground. They struggled for a few seconds until Gregor managed to catch the man in the side of the face with the barrel of the gun. Panting, he scrambled to his feet and pointed it at the downed wrangler. "You're dead!" he snarled, pulling back on the hammer.

"So are you, you fool! You've killed us all!" Josef snapped back, his hand pressing against the bloody gash on his cheek.

Gregor hesitated a moment, "What are you talking about?"

"Unstop your ears, you great oaf!" Josef swung his hand out in a wide gesture.

Gregor stiffened, lifting his head and concentrating. Far off, a deep rumbling could be heard. He swung his gaze back to the wrangler, "What is that?"

"Avalanche!" Josef climbed to his feet, his expression one of fierce concentration. He turned to look at the horses. They were standing alert, ears pricked but neither was fidgeting or acting nervous. Josef followed their ears and felt his heart sink a little. They were looking towards the valley where he'd sent the woman. If an avalanche closed the far end, she'd be trapped. A massive hand landed on his shoulder and yanked him around.

The bully glared at him, "Where does that valley go?"

Josef shrugged the hand off, looking indignant, "Nowhere, the mountains block it on all sides. There is no way out."

Gregor stepped closer, "What about the way she got in?" His mind was racing. What would he tell the American? He needed the money. Would they still pay without MacKenzie? Could he make a deal?

Josef snorted, waving a hand dismissively, "Did you look at that slope? The ground is loose. Going down is difficult, coming up - impossible. You would be buried alive." He stopped suddenly as his head came up and he slowly turned towards the Pass, "Listen."

There was another rumbling ahead of them. Gregor stared that way for a few seconds before turning back to the wrangler, "Is that the Pass?" Dammit, were they trapped? What had he done?

Josef glared at him, "It's the Forest. You've awakened the Devil." He turned slowly away, going back to his horses, "May God have mercy on us all."

Harm watched the wrangler and the bearded man yell at one another before staring desolately down into the valley again. He had no idea what they were shouting at each other and didn't really care. With his height and being on horseback, he'd had the best view of all of them. Harm had literally been open-mouthed in shock when Carol turned her horse and leaped over the side of the cliff. His stomach had dropped at what, at first glance, appeared to be a plunge to her death. That had been followed by astonishment as he watched her ride hell-for-leather down that impossible slope. His relief when she reached the bottom in one piece was shattered at the sound of gunshots. His heart had leapt into his throat when he saw Carol lurch in the saddle just before she vanished around the bend. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd been hit. After a moment, Harm turned his gaze back to the big man, his expression rock-hard. Never before had he contemplated killing someone in cold blood - until now. If he got the chance, that man would die.


	23. Chapter 23

Sorry this update is so late. I got hit with the trifecta this past week. Not only was I buried under a massive amount of work (heaven save me from brand new veeps of sales trying to impress the CEO) but then the nasty weather hit as well as a nasty head cold. I literally didn't have time to be sick, so I worked from home for as long as possible each day and spent the rest of the time in bed. All in all, I lost over a week of writing time. Again, I apologize.

Chapter 23

Thursday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

0700 Local

Mo marched along next to Cat's wheelchair. Her anger was growing - at the circumstances, at her father's actions, at her twin's incredible pigheadedness but mostly at herself for not having the backbone to have stopped their father in the first place. If she'd done what she was supposed to, her sister would be resting comfortably in a hospital bed instead of heading to a showdown over the fate of their country. She shot a look at her twin. Cat was white-faced although her expression was one of grim determination. Time was essential at this point. The country was waking, preparing itself for another day and the media could no longer be held off. If their father didn't step down and the media got hold of it, it was conceivable that civil war could erupt. Wars had been started for less. Frowning, Mo turned her gaze forward again, focusing on the backs of the security detail in front. A second squad was behind them and behind them was Grandma and Grandpa Montgomery, along with Uncle Danny, Marius and the palace physician.

Arina eyed the three sisters as she pushed Cat's wheelchair along. El was the easiest to read. She was worried and scared, keeping a hand resting lightly on the wheelchair for reassurance. Mo was stiff-backed and erect, moving with a military precision and bearing that came with her years at the American Naval Academy. She was also mad as hell, Arina noted wryly, not sure if that was a good thing or not. The Queen was hardest to decipher, a fact that didn't surprise Arina in the least. Both Margarete and her twin had the disconcerting ability to focus intensely on something, be it a topic or person, ignoring all outside distractions. It was remarkably unnerving. Right now, the Queen was focusing on her confrontation with her father to the exclusion of all else. Arina fervently hoped the physical toll wouldn't be too high.

They reached the outer doors of the suite Gheorghe was occupying and the Palace Guards, looking somewhat shocked, quickly opened them and stepped out of the way. The group swept into the anteroom, surprising a second set of guards. They moved to the side at a gesture from Marius and Arina rolled Cat up to the door. From there, Cat climbed slowly to her feet with the help of her twin. She stood for a few seconds with her eyes closed before taking a deep breath and nodding to Arina to open the door. A look and shake of her head kept anyone from accompanying her as she stepped into the room. Arina shut the door, sharing a worried look with Mo. They stayed close, unashamedly doing their best to listen.

Hearing the door open and close, Gheorghe didn't turn as he continued to stare out the window, watching the sun rise. The peaceful scene did nothing to calm the rage he was still feeling. Once again, he'd been betrayed. This time, it had been for mere money. People he trusted had sold their loyalty for thirty pieces of silver. His wife was gone, the odds of finding her alive dwindling with every passing minute, his children attacked and he'd been powerless to prevent or protect. That left finding the bastards responsible and exacting punishment. "What have you learned?" Gheorghe didn't bother moderating his harsh tone. What did it matter?

"Too much."

Hearing his daughter's voice had Gheorghe spinning around in surprise. Cat was leaning against the door, her face pale as she regarded him with fierce determination. He took a step towards her, "What are you doing here? You should be in the hospital." His expression darkened, "Where is your doctor? I will - "

"Stop." Cat straightened slowly, taking a few steps into the room. She halted near the back of the couch, surreptitiously bracing herself on it. "What are you doing, Daddy? You're not supposed to be here."

He drew himself up, "I am doing what needs to be done, what has to be done. Our nation has been attacked."

"And so you attack our country as well?" Cat didn't pull any punches. She didn't have the time. "Was that your intention? To overthrow my government?" She softened her voice a little as she repeated, "What are you doing? You should be at the hospital with Nicky, not here."

He stared at her, his initial anger cooling somewhat. He knew he'd been wrong, that he'd taken advantage of the chaos and shock to force his way back into control but he'd been so furious and something had to be done. No one had dared contradict him or point out what he bloody well knew - until now. His guilt rising, Gheorghe tried to reason, "You don't understand. I had to do this. You're hurt, you're not thinking clearly."

"And you're angry. You're not thinking clearly, either," Cat countered wearily. "You have no business being here and you know it. You cannot simply retake the throne at every crisis."

"Crisis? Crisis?" Gheorghe's voice rose, "You and Nicky shot, my wife - your mother - taken and probably killed. This was not just a 'crisis'. This was an attack on our family!"

"Yes it was. So stop hiding behind the throne and start being a father and husband! That is your job now!" Cat's own voice rose as her frustration grew.

"How dare you?" Gheorghe was red-faced with anger again.

"How dare I? How dare you! You haven't even asked about your own son!" Furious now, Cat took another step towards him, "It's been nearly four years, Daddy! Four years of you slowly but surely pulling away from us. We weren't responsible for what Lucian Valter and Uncle Victor did but we've been paying for it ever since. Do you even know what we went through then? We needed you. Mom kept making excuses, shielding us from your 'episodes'. Do you have any idea how unhappy she's been? And now this, Mom and Nicky… " her voice hitched, "We needed you and instead you put us on the brink of civil war. What's happened to you?"

"I -," Gheorghe halted, at a loss for words. It was like a bandage had been ripped away, exposing the festering self-pity that had consumed him. What had he become? "Catalin - ." He started to move towards her and stopped when she shook her head.

"No. It will not be that easy between you and I." She lifted her chin, "I'm here now. Step down, Daddy, and go to the hospital. Nicky made it through surgery and he's in recovery now. Be there when he wakes up - he doesn't know about Mom, yet. He's going to need you," Cat's voice softened again, praying he would go quietly and not force her to call out the Guard. She had no idea at the moment which way their loyalty would turn. Her legs were beginning to shake from the effort of standing.

Gheorghe scrubbed a hand across his forehead as he stared at the floor, the anger gone and remorse in its place. What was wrong with him? "All right," he said softly. He moved slowly to the door and opened it. If he'd had any doubt about the truth of Cat's words, they dissipated at the looks of trepidation he received from El and Mo. "Daughters," he said hoarsely, opening his arms. El threw herself at him, hugging him fiercely. Mo moved a bit slower, her embrace strengthening as he murmured 'I'm so sorry' in her ear. After a few moments, he pulled back and looked at them, "Let's go see how Nicky is. I am no longer needed here."

El nodded happily but Mo stepped back a little, shaking her head. She shot a glance into the room where Cat was watching them, "I think I should stay here in case the Queen needs me."

Gheorghe tipped his head, acknowledging the subtle rebuke. He cleared his throat, "That's probably a good idea. I will call you when he wakes up." He walked forward, his arm still around El. The group shifted and broke up, the Montgomerys and a security detail going with Gheorghe while Mo, Arina, Daniel and Marius moved to join Cat.

Mo was first in and one good look at her sister had her hurrying forward. "Doctor!" Marius snapped over his shoulder as he hurried to Cat's other side. The Queen was leaning heavily against the back of couch, her face covered in sweat. Deciding she wouldn't make the few steps to the other side of the couch, Marius carefully picked her up. Moving around to the front of the couch, he put her down while Mo hovered anxiously. Arina waited for the doctor to enter before quickly closing the door. No one needed to see this.

The doctor bustled up, shooing people out of the way. He tutted under his breath as he took her pulse. Moving to open her shirt, he shot a look at Marius and Daniel. Daniel snorted and turned his back but Marius merely moved behind the couch so that he could continue to watch the doctor. Hmphing quietly, the doctor unbuttoned Cat's shirt and peeled it back, revealing the blood-stained bandaging underneath. Gently he removed the dressing exposing the swollen, discolored bullet wound. There was blood seeping out from an ugly, jagged line of black stitches. He prodded the area carefully, ignoring Cat's gasp. Grunting thoughtfully, he pulled out fresh dressings and bandaged the wound again. Buttoning her shirt, he sat back and regarded her disapprovingly, "Too much, too soon but there is no additional damage. You must rest." He glanced over his shoulder at Mo and Arina, "Some fruit juice would help."

Arina nodded and moved to a phone, punching in an extension and speaking quietly. She came back in time to hear Cat say 'thank you, Doctor' with a note of weary finality and skillfully maneuvered the man out of the room.

Cat leaned her head back against the cushions and looked from Daniel to Marius, "Tell me everything." Marius glanced at Daniel before launching into his recital. There had been two deaths in the attack on the ballroom, a prominent local businessman and one of the palace servers. A half dozen others had been wounded besides Cat and Nicky. The Prince had been the most serious. Families had been notified and quietly brought to the Palace while their loved ones were being treated. The rest of the guests still remained as well, accommodations stretched to the limit. Most had been understanding after the initial shock had worn off. A few were becoming impatient and vocal. All would have to be dealt with and soon.

They'd been betrayed for the most part by simple greed. The kitchen worker exposed and captured by Colonel MacKenzie (Mo and Cat had exchanged glances on that), had been paid handsomely to smuggle in the gunmen although he maintained he'd had no knowledge of what or who they'd smuggled out. He had led them to others. Three maintenance workers had also accepted bribes - two to distract and delay the security detail while the third exchanged light bulbs and attached a small electronic device to the masterboard for the ballroom's lighting system. They steadfastly proclaimed their ignorance of the violence that followed. It was supposed to have been a simple prank to embarrass the Bacovian government. More alarming had been the arrest of a Palace Guardsman. He'd known exactly what he was doing, his contempt for the 'American whore' who now occupied the throne obvious and disturbing. Cat listened to it all silently. She didn't fault Marius - his was an impossible job, trying to foretell treachery within their walls.

There was one thing of his doing she did need to fix, however. Cat raised an eyebrow at the security chief, "Release Liz Parker and bring her here." Marius flushed a little and executed a short bow. Before he could leave, Cat motioned him closer. Keeping her voice low, she said dryly, "Don't forget to apologize. You were right in what you did but apologize anyway. She was right, too." Once Marius had left, Cat turned her head to Daniel, "We need to release a statement to the media now before rumors and speculation become fact."

He nodded, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a paper. "I had a few free moments," he explained blandly, as he handed it to Arina. She quietly read it out loud to Cat and Mo. They nodded their approval and Daniel raised an eyebrow, "It will be better if it comes from you, your Majesty."

Cat sighed a little, "All right. I assume you prefer it to be televised?"

Daniel spread his hands, "You know what they say about pictures, your Majesty."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Enroute to the Bymer Pass

1010 Local

Harper glanced back along the line of men. Aside from their guide, none were locals. Neither money nor threats could persuade any of them to attempt the Bymer Pass. Despite that, Trask had been confident, even cheerful. He was currently strapped to the saddle of their only mount. Harper sighed, turning his attention back to their guide. A gnarled, taciturn little man, he was about as unpleasant a person as Harper had ever met. Not that it mattered much, he hadn't been hired for his personality but for his flat assertion that he'd traveled the Bymer Pass many times. Harper had no idea where the hell Trask had found the man. He appeared to know where he was going although the trail they were on seemed to be little used. There weren't even animal tracks.

Harper looked at the guide, "How far is it to the border?"

The man grunted, rolling a jaundiced eye at the American. After a pause long enough to set Harper's teeth on edge, the man shrugged, "Distance does not matter, only the time." He hawked and spit, landing close enough to the American's boot to be insulting before grinning, showing tobacco-stained teeth, "We will cross into Bacovia in two hours."

Harper's jaw tightened as he resisted the urge to wrap his hands around the little man's throat. Turning abruptly, he moved back along the line to Trask, "Two hours to the border, sir. Are you sure? Crossing into Bacovia could be a death sentence."

Trask smiled down at him, "It will be a death sentence but not for me. Relax, Mr. Harper, we're in good hands."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

1010 Local

The technician made a cutting motion with his hand and the studio lights dimmed, "Thank you, your Majesty."

Cat nodded and carefully rose to her feet, "Thank you, Mr. Svetkvic." Turning, she moved sedately towards the exit. Her security detail opened the door as she approached and quickly closed it behind her. Marius and Daniel grabbed Cat as soon as she was hidden from sight. She sagged against them as they hustled her down the short hallway and turned the corner. Arina and Mo were waiting with the wheelchair. Once she was seated, security jogged ahead, making sure the corridors were clear. Moving quickly, the group returned to the rooms they were using as a command center. Most everyone at the palace knew the Queen had been shot but only a handful were aware it was more than a flesh wound. Not wishing to give her political opponents any more leverage, Cat was intent on keeping up the misconception.

Once inside, Arina headed straight back to where a bed had been placed. Liz Parker was waiting for them, shooing the men away. The three women made short work of getting Cat out of the wheelchair, undressed and into bed. As soon as she was asleep, they moved out into the main room. Marius was waiting for them. Daniel was nowhere to be seen. Mo gave the security chief a questioning look.

"He's gone to give a follow-up statement to the rest of the media," Marius explained.

Mo nodded, knowing how adept Uncle Danny was at handling the press, "Has there been any word from anyone?"

Zali shook his head, "Nothing new on the search. Your father and the rest arrived safely at the hospital. The Prince is out of Recovery and in a private room. He hasn't woken up but the doctors said that was normal and that he'll probably sleep through tomorrow. We've arrested one of the drivers from the food delivery service, the owners didn't know anything about the plot. Now that the media knows what's going on, I've let the coronation guests go. Transportation is being arranged. A number of Ambassadors wish to speak to the Queen and I'm letting Daniel handle that. We're still looking for the shooters. Colonel MacKenzie was reported to have passed through one of our southeast checkpoints very early this morning but no one's heard from her since."

Mo frowned worriedly at that, glancing over at Liz before replying to Marius, "Thank you."

Zali nodded, "You're welcome, your Highness, if I may - ?"

"Yes, of course," Mo nodded. She watched Zali stride from the room. Turning, she made her way to the couch and flopped gracelessly down. Leaning forward so her elbows were on her knees, she used both hands to massage the back of her neck, "This day has gone on forever."

Sighing, Liz dropped into a chair, gesturing for Arina to do likewise, "That's because it's tomorrow."

"I wish we'd hear from somebody," Mo straightened up, her frustration plain. "I hate this waiting and not knowing." She purposely steered away from the kidnapping and corresponding fear that they might never find her mother or learn her fate. It was too horrible to consider. Where was Colonel Mac?

"Why don't you lay down and try to rest?" Arina suggested carefully, not sure how Mo would react. She wasn't as familiar with the Queen's twin. "We can wake you if anything changes."

Mo looked at her and Liz, "That doesn't seem fair now, does it? You two must be just as tired."

"We're not the ones who have to make the decisions," Liz pointed out. "Cat's going to need you and it would be better if you're not frazzled with exhaustion. Lie down."

Arina watched as Mo stretched out and closed her eyes. When Liz stood, Arina did likewise, following the older woman to the outer room. Liz went directly to the coffeepot, glancing back in silent inquiry. Arina nodded, accepting the steaming mug a few moments later. The two sipped their coffee quietly before Arina looked over at Liz, "How are you?"

Liz shrugged, "Hanging in there, I guess." She rubbed the side of her face, closing her eyes for a second, "Really, though? I still can't believe this is happening, that Carol's not going to come walking through that door in the next minute or so, rattling on about her next civic project." Liz finally looked at Arina, "We've been best friends since the fourth grade. I introduced her to Gheorghe. I've been with her through all her pregnancies, all the highs and lows - and this is so goddamn unfair!"

"I'm sorry," Arina patted Liz's arm sympathetically. They were silent for a few minutes before Arina asked, "Do you really think Colonel Rabb can find the Queen Mother? It just seems impossible."

Liz took another swallow before answering, "I believe she can find her husband - those two seem to have a sixth sense about each other - and Carol's with him, so, yes." She looked down at the floor, "I'm just praying the Colonel can do it in time. If the wrong person recognizes Carol, she's as good as dead."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Trailhead to the Bymer Pass

1120 Local

"I thought we decided you would not get involved," Maiya stood with her hands on her hips, blocking the doorway, and regarded her husband sternly.

Anatoli looked at his wife wearily, "You decided. I accepted the woman's money. I must go. I have delayed too long already."

"Have you forgotten that your father is with those men? What happens if the government shows up and starts shooting? You think they will believe he's not with them? Or care? That woman said they were criminals and we took their money, too," Maiya argued. "We could be thrown in jail. We could lose everything."

Wavering a little, Anatoli rubbed his hands on the sides of his shirt, "But she is asking for help. How do I live with myself if I do nothing and help never arrives? She and the men with her could be killed."

Maiya waved a dismissive hand, "They are traveling the Bymer Pass. You know how treacherous it is. The Pass takes who it pleases - help or no help." She glared at him, "Think of your children. How will they survive without you? How can you risk your family for some stranger? And what if these men the woman is chasing have friends? They will know who betrayed them - who brought the police. We could all be killed."

Anatoli stood for a few long seconds before his shoulders slumped. What was he thinking? He had to protect his family. He pulled the phone out of his pocket, "What should I do with this?"

Maiya pointed, "Bury it out back. No one has to know."

Leonid pulled back into the shadows of the hallway, frowning. At thirteen, he was the oldest son of Anatoli and Maiya and took his position seriously. This day had begun oddly and looked to be continuing that way. He'd been helping his grandfather with the morning feed when the bearded man had shown up. Grandpa had made him wait in the stables while he and Papa met with the man. Afterwards, Grandpa had sent him and Papa to the house and made them lock the doors. That was enough to tell Leonid that something was wrong. Since then, he'd unabashedly listened in on his parents' conversation whenever possible, trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

He'd gotten a better idea after the woman had shown up at their gate. Although she spoke Russian fluently, he could tell she was American. That fascinating tidbit had been overshadowed when his father finally returned to the house and he learned that his grandfather was helping criminals. At first he couldn't make sense of it until he realized his grandfather had to be protecting the family by cooperating. Now this - his father was giving in to fear and dishonoring the family name. Leonid shook his head as he turned and hurried back to the room he shared with his younger brothers. He couldn't let that happen.

Passing through the room, he headed for the window. Sliding it open, he carefully looked around before climbing out. Dropping lightly to the ground, Leonid made his way to the corner and peered around. His father was out by the truck garden, digging quickly. Leonid watched, half in disbelief as Anatoli dropped the phone into the hole and covered it up. Pulling back, he waited a minute or two before peering around the corner again. It was clear. Glancing around one more time, he jogged over to the garden. Finding the small area of disturbed earth, Leonid dropped to his knees and dug quickly. A minute later, he was pocketing the phone and sprinting to the stable. Once inside, he leaned against a stall and pulled out the phone. Wiping off the dirt, Leonid examined it carefully. He'd never actually held a cell phone before.

After pushing several buttons, he was rewarded with the slow glow as the phone came to life. Leonid stared at the number on the screen. This must be who the woman wanted his father to call. He chewed at his lower lip, considering what to do next. His english was actually a bit better than his father's because of school, but he wasn't sure if he could keep up a conversation. On the other hand, he was all that was standing in the way of his family's dishonor. What would his grandfather do? Straightening, Leonid put the phone in his pocket and strode quickly to the tackroom. Grabbing a saddle, blanket and bridle, he hurried to Rayna's stall. The mare was steady, sure-footed and reliable. Leonid was already a good horseman and rider, taking after his grandfather. Pulling the mare out, he quickly brushed her down and saddled her. Leading her to the stable doors, Leonid paused for a couple of seconds to make sure it was still clear. Not seeing anyone, he led Rayna out and swung himself into the saddle. Skirting around the barn, he headed down the mountain.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Don Eppes' apartment

Los Angeles, CA

0420 Local

The insistent ringing of his cell phone finally woke Don. Somewhat groggy, he fumbled his hand across the nightstand. Grabbing it on the second try, Don rolled onto his back, keeping his eyes closed. "Eppes," he grunted, irritably. If this was a callout, he was going to kick someone's ass. He'd only been asleep about four hours and wasn't supposed to be on call.

Don frowned a moment later, prying open an eye, "What? Say that again." He sat up, scrubbing a hand through his hair and squinted at the alarm clock. "Who is this? Leonid?... Okay, Leonid, where are you?" Don's eyes popped open, "In Bacovia?" Pulling the cell phone away from his ear, he squinted at the screen, his alarm growing when he was Mac's name on the ID, "Leonid, how did you get this phone? Did a lady give it to you?" Don frowned in confusion, "Your father? Then how... wait a minute, what men?... " Tucking the phone up by his ear with his shoulder, Don opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a pad and pen, "Say that again - slowly… uh-huh … and the lady was following them? … she asked for help? … okay, do you know where they were going? … the Bymer Pass? … what? your de- what? dedushka? … calm down, Leonid, it's okay. I understand. I'll be sure to tell everyone he became their guide to protect your family. They'll be careful. … Thank you, Leonid, you did a brave thing today." Ending the call, Don pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a long moment. Shaking his head, he put it on the nightstand and climbed wearily out of bed. He needed to get back to the office and make some phone calls.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1245 Local

Mac leaned against a tree in the little clearing, drawing her knees up and resting her arms on top. They'd been on the trail for nearly six hours. She'd put Gunny Walters in charge, knowing she'd push too hard. He'd set the pace and mandated rest periods. Although she chafed at the delays, in all honesty, she needed them. The long hours and incessant worry were taking their toll. The one consolation was that they were slowly closing with their quarry. Closing her eyes, Mac tipped her head back, trying to push the worry aside for a few minutes. When a body slid down next to her, she leaned her head in that direction and cracked open an eye.

Dubby gave her an apologetic look, "Sorry, ma'am. I thought it was time to think about how to take these bastards. The Lieutenants tell me we're less than an hour behind them now." He glanced up the trail and shook his head, "Not that you could tell with the way this goat path twists and turns. It's a safe bet they're not expecting us but the closer we get, the better the chance they'll spot us."

Mac nodded, looking up the path as well, "If we could get above them, it'd be easier." She gingerly rubbed the sore side of her face, "Without knowing the terrain, we're just going to have to play it by ear and watch for an opportunity. I'd rather not force the issue where the trail is narrow. It would be too easy for them to use Harm and Carol as shields." She gave Gunny a stern look, "I want them alive but we'll do what we have to. Deadly force if it looks like they're going to shoot Harm or Carol."

"Ma'am! Gunny! Someone's coming," Pick quiet voice cut across their conversation. Mac and Gunny scrambled up, unslinging their rifles and taking cover amid the rocks. Up ahead a little ways, Pick and Tink had already blended into the background. Before long, they could hear what had alerted the young men. It was the sound of hooves on the hard surface of the trail. A few seconds later, a horse walked into view. The rider was slumped forward, appearing to be nearly unconscious.

Pick showed himself first causing the horse to stop and snort. Murmuring softly, he moved slowly towards it until he was close enough to grab the lead rope. Rubbing the horse's neck, he slid towards the rider. His head whipped around a moment later, his eyes wide with shock, "It's Carol Dzurick!"


	24. Chapter 24

Moving right along - thanks everyone for the reviews. Still trying to get out from under all the work. Now it's the backlog from pushing everything else aside. My cold's better - all that's left is a nagging cough. Happy reading!

Chapter 24

Thursday,

Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1255 Local

"It's Carol Dzurick!" His words galvanized the other three into action. In short order, they had cut the ropes and lowered Carol to the ground. Mac held on to her while Pick did what he could to treat her injuries. Barely aware of her surroundings, Carol had reacted badly to both Tink and Dubby before passing out entirely. Mac could only guess that her captors had also been big men with deep voices. They'd been brutal as well. Carol's face was bruised and bloodied, her sides black and blue, the right hand broken and she'd been shot, no doubt during her escape. The bullet had hit and gone through her left arm, not serious in itself although the blood loss was. Those were the visible injuries. There was no telling if there was internal damage. Mac alternated between anger, worry and guilt. This should have been her. Forcing her emotions aside, she kept up a soft litany of reassurances.

Finally, Pick rocked back on his heels and looked worriedly at Mac, "That's the best I can do, ma'am. We need to get her to a hospital."

"Colonel? We need to find out what she knows if we can," whispering, Dubby kept out of Carol's field of vision.

Mac nodded. Accepting a cold, damp cloth from Pick, she gently dabbed at Carol's face. "Carol?" she called softly, "Can you hear me? It's Sarah. We've got you, you're safe. Carol?" The Queen remained unresponsive and Mac shot a worried look at Dubby as she shook her head. They were hours away from any sort of help. Going back would ensure Harm's death, not going back might kill Carol. She took a breath, "We split up. Lt. Tyler, Lt. Bell, you will take the Queen back, get her medical help and notify the authorities. Gunny and I will continue.

"Ma'am?" Tink rumbled unhappily. "If these guys hook up with Trask, you'll be outnumbered."

"Then we'll have to get to them before that happens," Mac said quietly. "We need to get moving. Gunny?"

"Yes, ma'am," Gunny pulled back, gesturing for the two young men to join him. After a couple of minutes of conferring, they decided a travois would be their best option to transport Carol. Pick and Tink went off to find suitable saplings. Dubby pulled out an emergency blanket and shook it out. Walking back to Mac, he knelt and tucked the blanket around Carol. Mac nodded her thanks, watching as he quietly moved back to the horse and waited for the Lieutenants to return. Mac shifted a bit, leaning her head back while adjusting her hold on Carol. She exhaled slowly, "We're going to get you to a hospital, so you have to stay with us, you hear? Your family is worried sick. They need you and they're going to be so happy to have you back. You concentrate on that. I'm sending Pick and Tinker with you. They'll protect you, so there's nothing to worry about. Gunny and I are going after Harm. I don't know how you managed to get away but I'm glad you did and I know Harm is, too."

There wasn't any response and Mac tiredly closed her eyes, murmuring, "I am so sorry. This wasn't your fight. You shouldn't have had to go through something like this." Her voice dwindled off as Mac finally gave in to sleep.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1300 Local

Mac turned around, frowning. She'd been expecting to find herself in the Shenandoah but this wasn't familiar at all. She was on a hilltop that had been scorched by fire. Dark clouds were scudding low across a threatening sky, making everything seem even more ominous. The only sound was the wind. Mac shivered a little as she scanned the desolate landscape. Where was this place?

"It's the Shenandoah - after Sheridan."

Mac spun around, "Avis! Where have you been?" She caught herself, looking apologetic, "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

Avis shook her head, "Considering everything, it's an understandable question." She stepped up alongside Mac, "We don't have much time. Look over there." She pointed towards the horizon. In the distance, there was a lone figure on horseback.

Mac squinted, trying to make out the details. There was something wrong with her eyes, the figure kept wavering, "Who is that?" Her stomach clenched and she turned to Avis in alarm, "Is that Harm?"

"No, Harm has been injured but he remains strong. He knows you're coming and he's waiting," Avis replied, "And there's nothing wrong with your eyes. That's Carol."

"Carol?" Mac frowned in worry.

Avis nodded, "She is close to losing herself." At Mac's stricken look, Avis raised an eyebrow, "It's not your fault. This is not the result of a single event. It's been building for some time. What has happened has pushed her to the edge that much faster."

"What? I don't - that doesn't make sense," Mac sputtered. Carol?

"Things are not always what they appear. You know that. Tell her to remember her roots," Avis tilted her head as if listening before looking intently at Mac, "Be very careful. Remember, evil cannot physically touch you but it will try to manipulate your perceptions. Trust your instincts."

Mac blinked and found herself alone again on the hilltop. She looked around once more and shivered. This was the Shenandoah? How did anyone survive such devastation? As everything around her began to fade, she heard Avis' voice say faintly, 'Faith.'

"Ma'am?"

Mac slowly opened her eyes and saw Pick crouched in front of her. Checking her internal clock, she was surprised to find twenty-two minutes had elapsed. It hadn't seemed that long. She glanced down at Carol, reassuring herself that the woman was still breathing, before looking back at Pick. "Are you ready?" she asked in a near-whisper.

He nodded, "Yes ma'am." He cast a worried look at Carol, "She hasn't woken up at all?"

"No," Mac shook her head, "Let's get her moved. The sooner you can get her back, the better."

"Yes, ma'am," Pick repeated. He half-turned and gestured for Tink. The big man came over and knelt down. With Pick's help, he got Carol into his arms and stood up. Walking over to where Gunny Walters was waiting with the horse, he carefully lowered her onto their makeshift travois.

Mac climbed to her feet and put a hand out, stopping Pick as he started to follow Bell. She kept her voice down, "Pick? You've been around the Dzurick family more now that you're seeing Mo, has everything been okay with them?"

Pick stared at her for a moment before glancing around, "Um, ma'am? I'm not sure what you mean."

Mac sighed a little, sending a troubled look in Carol's direction, "There's been something going on, hasn't there?"

Pick echoed her sigh, gazing down at the ground while rubbing the back of his neck, "It's hard to say, ma'am. The whole family has that 'everything's fine' public persona down to a science but I think there's been some problems between Gheorghe and Carol."

"Okay," Mac nodded slowly, unhappy with herself for not noticing earlier. "Do me a favor and talk to her on the way back, whether she's awake or not. I think she needs to hear a friendly voice."

"Be happy to, ma'am. I've always thought she was pretty special," Pick glanced over and saw that Tink was ready to go. At Mac's nod, he jogged over and took up a position in back. He looked back at Mac and Dubby, "We'll keep her safe. Good hunting, Colonel, Gunny. Bring the Commander home."

"We will," Mac answered decisively. She consulted her internal clock, "You should run into reinforcements before you reach the trailhead. Keep your eyes open and be careful - I don't want to hear anything about friendly fire when we get back."

"Will do, ma'am," Pick answered. He nodded to Tink who was up front, holding the lead rope. They started back down the trail.

Dubby looked at Mac, "Ready, ma'am?"

Taking a deep breath, Mac nodded, "Let's get Harm and end this, once and for all."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

1440 Local

Liz stacked the lunch dishes that Arina and Mo handed her. They'd managed to get Cat to eat after having slept several hours, something Liz was hoping they could get her to do again. She needed to rest. At times like this, with Carol on her mind almost constantly, it was hard not to remember the sisters as babies. She could still recall how excited - and slightly panicked - her best friend had been when she discovered she was carrying twins. Gheorghe had been over the moon. It seemed like only yesterday. As Liz rolled the dining cart to the outer room for the kitchen staff to collect, her cell phone vibrated. With a certain amount of trepidation, she pulled it out, praying it wouldn't be any more bad news. They'd had more than their share of it.

Her breath caught when she saw the ID and she hurriedly answered. "Agent Eppes?" Liz kept her voice down, glancing back to the other room.

"Ms. Parker?" Don leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. "I got a phone call a little while ago from a boy named Leonid. Mac is chasing the kidnappers through the Bymer Pass and she's asking for help. The thing is that had to have been at least two, three hours ago. Apparently, there's no phones or cell phone reception up there. Leonid had to go down the mountain to make the call. He was scared about doing it. His grandfather had agreed to lead the kidnappers through the Pass to protect the rest of the family and Leonid's afraid your people will lump his grandpa in with the bad guys."

"We won't," Liz responded automatically as she numbly sat on a nearby chair. She took a breath, "The Bymer Pass? You're sure?"

"Well, that's what it sounded like. The kid had a pretty strong accent," Don admitted, frowning. "Why? Isn't there a pass called that?"

"What? Oh, yes - yes, there is," Liz rubbed the side of her face, telling herself to calm down. "It's just that it's - um - dangerous and rarely used."

"That's probably why they took it. No one would expect them to go that way," Don continued to frown, wondering at her reaction. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no, of course not, thank you, Mr. Eppes," Somewhat distracted, Liz ended the call and stood up, moving to the doorway. "Your Majesty?"

Cat, Mo and Arina turned to look at Liz. Cat's stomach twisted at the woman's pale face, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Colonel Mac is chasing the kidnappers," Liz paused for a moment. "They're going through the Bymer Pass."

The three women stared at her before Cat asked the inevitable question, "Are you sure? Who told you?"

Liz moved further into the room, "Special Agent Don Eppes just called. He got a phone call from a young man named Leonid. There's no phone lines or cell reception up there near the trail so apparently Mac gave her phone to him and asked him to go down the mountain and call for help. It sounds like the kidnappers coerced the grandfather into leading them. The problem is that had to be hours ago."

"One of the problems," Mo frowned worriedly as she turned to Cat. "There's no way to get a helicopter up there, is there?"

"No, the wind currents are too dangerous. All the previous rescue missions were done on foot or horseback," Cat answered, forcing her hands to relax their grip on the bedcovers. Liz and Arina had insisted she stay in bed during lunch. She knew they'd been hoping she'd fall asleep again. Cat looked at Arina, "Call Field Marshall Cvetkovic and tell him what we've learned. See how fast he can move troops to the Bymer Pass. Then contact the Romanian Ambassador - ?"

"Iliesca," Liz supplied, "Mihai and his wife, Alexandra. They may still be here."

"How much do they know?" Mo asked.

"Everything except the fact that your mother was taken. That's still not general knowledge." Liz replied. "But I think you're going to have to tell him. Ambassador Iliesca has proven to be discreet in the past. Alexandra, on the other hand, is a chatterbox and gossip of the first order," she added dryly. "Carol used to read up on all the Romanian society gossip sheets before meeting with her and then steer the entire conversation towards things the woman already knew - drove Alexandra crazy."

The sisters grinned until Mo suddenly shot a horrified look at Cat, "Wait, you're not going to make me talk to Alexandra while you talk to the Ambassador, are you?"

Cat raised an eyebrow before smiling, "It's tempting, but no." She looked at Arina, "See if you can locate Daniel. He's dealt with the Ambassador before and I'd like his input. This will be an official diplomatic meeting. Iliesca has handled his wife before, he'll just have to do it again." She sighed a little, "I need to get dressed. I'd rather speak with him face-to-face. If possible, we have to get help from their side of the Pass."

o o o o o

Thursday,

FBI HQ

Los Angeles

0630 Local

Megan walked into the office juggling a box of donuts and her coffee. She nearly dropped them in surprise at seeing Don hunched in front of his computer. She knew he'd put in a late night and hadn't expected to see him until after 8:00. Setting the box on her desk, she moved quietly over to stand next to him, "Don? What's going on?"

Leaning back, Don scrubbed both hands through his hair, "Lots. I got a call about two hours ago from a kid in Bacovia that Mac was chasing the kidnappers through some barely used pass in the southeastern mountains."

"What?" Megan stared at him, her confusion plain.

"Some place called the Bymer Pass," Don said wearily, waving a hand at the computer. "No cell phone reception so Mac gave the kid her phone and sent him down the mountain to call for her. The thing is, I called Liz Parker to let her know and she kinda freaked out on me."

Megan leaned against his deck, regarding him worriedly, "About what?"

"I think about the Pass," Don sighed in frustration, "but I can't find out why. So far, the few sites I've found that even mention the place are in Russian. I've got a call into Sokol, too, and haven't heard back from him yet."

Megan glanced at her watch, "He may be meeting up with Edgerton. He should be on the ground in Romania by now."

"I also found this," Don hit a key on his computer and turned the monitor a little so Megan could see. "Bacovia's finally talking." They both watched in silence as the grainy picture of Queen Margarete spoke to her country, first in Russian and then in English.

"Tough young lady," Megan commented, sipping her coffee. "You'd never know she'd been shot, too." She cocked an eye at Don, "She also carefully didn't mention either of her parents. They're trying to keep a lid on it?"

Don shrugged, "Makes sense - the last thing they'd want to do is alert the kidnappers that they've got the wrong woman."

"Trask is going to know as soon as he lays eyes on her," Megan pointed out.

"Unless Mac gets to them first. Here's hoping," Don picked up his own coffee mug and sipped, making a face at the now cold brew. He climbed to his feet, heading for the break room. Megan followed along. "And there was a voicemail on my phone this morning from NCIS Agent McGee. There was an arson attempt on the Rabb place last night. They caught the guy but O'Hara was injured slightly. The perp said he was hired - get this, in person, by Michael Ezekiel."

"Did he?" Megan raised an eyebrow. "I would have thought Trask would have been more circumspect than that."

"I think he was," Don snorted, "The guy couldn't pull Trask's picture out of a six-pack. Somebody hired him and used Trask's alias."

"No kidding. Gee, I wonder who'd do something like that?" Megan smiled grimly.

"Can't imagine," Don smiled back, "But I'm thinking our Mr. Letiro's got some 'splainin to do."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1505 Local

"Hold up a second," Pick called softly. "I think she's waking up." Tink stopped the horse, absently rubbing its head. He was beginning to develop a fondness for the tough little animal. He might have to take Maggie up on her offers to teach him to ride. Tink always considered his size a drawback although Maggie kept insisting there were breeds out there who could easily handle the weight. He'd always put her off, figuring he'd look silly on some draft horse.

Pick pulled out a canteen as he crouched alongside the travois, "Ma'am? Can you hear me? It's Pick." As he'd promised the Colonel, he'd kept up a quiet monologue while he walked alongside, talking about everything and anything. When he began reciting stories of various family relatives, Tink had been hard-pressed to keep from laughing out loud and had finally whispered his opinion that Pick was making everything up. Pick, keeping his tone light and friendly, had defended himself vigorously and then launched into even more outrageous stories. It helped pass the time and kept the tension and worry they were both feeling from growing too large to handle.

Pick watched as Carol's eyelids fluttered, half-hopeful and half-worried about how she would react once she was awake. It had been unnerving seeing her panic earlier. He'd always been a little bit in awe of the woman ever since he'd first met her in Kentucky. She'd competed in the 3-Day event at the Olympic level, after all. That wasn't something for the faint-hearted. Pick held his breath, shooting a quick look at Tink, as her eyes slowly opened. "Ma'am?" he repeated softly, reaching over to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Carol blinked a couple of times, trying to penetrate the fog she was in. It was hard to think. Her head was pounding and her whole body ached. Her face mirrored the confusion she was feeling. What had happened? Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she automatically flinched away only to discover she was trapped. Panic flared as Carol remembered the last time she'd been restrained like this. She began to struggle frantically despite the stabbing pain in her left arm.

"Ma'am, take it easy! It's okay!" Yanking his hand away, Pick shot a panicked look of his own towards Tink.

"It's the rope holding her in place," Tink whispered urgently, taking in the situation. "Cut it before she really hurts herself." He didn't want to think about what she had gone through with her captors to produce that sort of reaction but fervently wished he could have five minutes alone with them. They'd regret ever having touched her.

Pick yanked out the knife he kept in a boot scabbard and sliced through the rope. Carol shot upright, startling the horse and making him jump before Tink could stop him. The sudden move threw her off-balance and Pick lunged forward, catching her as she fell off the side. The jolt of pain stopped her struggles and Pick started frantically speaking in her ear while he held on. Tink could only watch, trying to stay out of sight behind the horse.

Carol panted, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited for the nightmare to start up again. Nothing happened and gradually she began to realize the voice she was hearing was familiar. Cautiously, she opened her eyes and tried to concentrate. There was a spike of fear at finding herself being held but voice kept talking calmly and quietly. Suddenly, Carol blinked in surprise as she recognized who she was hearing. "Pick?" she rasped.

"Yes, ma'am," Pick closed his eyes for a moment in relief. "It's me and Lt. Bell." He nodded to Tink who cautiously moved into her line of sight. "We're taking you home."

Carol exhaled slowly, almost afraid to believe her ordeal might be over, "How -?"

"We were with Colonel Mac - Colonel Rabb. She's been chasing you and the Commander almost since it happened and then you found us about two and half hours ago. The Colonel had us take you back while she and Gunny Walters go after the Commander. We're about halfway there." Pick slowly relaxed his hold on her. "How are you feeling, ma'am?"

"Not great," Carol breathed out, wincing again.

"Yes, ma'am," Pick looked over at Bell again and nodded, "Tink and I are going to get you back on the travois, okay?" He took her silence as agreement and gestured Tink over. Once they had her in place, Tink moved back to his position in front. Even though she knew it was him, Carol had been uncharacteristically tense. It was another ten minutes or so before they got started again. Pick had checked her dressings and offered her water before fastening the rope loosely across her waist, carefully explaining it was a quick release knot and making sure she could reach it. Within twenty minutes, Carol had drifted off again. Pick watched her for a little while longer to looking up towards Tink, "She's asleep."

Tink nodded, "Good." He glanced back at Pick, looking worried, "She was afraid of me. I've never seen her scared of anything - not like this anyway."

"I know," Pick agreed. The two fell into silence for a little while before Pick said speculatively, "It kinda reminds me of my second cousin Digger Kendricks after his unfortunate encounter with Mamie O'Kirk, the town librarian." He watched Tink march resolutely forward for a few seconds before adding, "It was years before you could mention the Dewey Decimal System in front of him." Pick saw the big man's shoulders slowly slump in defeat and smiled complacently, waiting.

With the exaggerated air of someone volunteering for a suicide mission, Tink looked over his shoulder, "And - ?"

o o o o o

Thursday,

Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1610 Local

Gregor stalked along at the end of the line, muttering angrily to himself. If he'd had any sense at all, he'd have been back here from the start where he could watch everyone. But, no, he was in charge and he'd insisted on leading. Stupid! Back here, he would have seen what MacKenzie was about to do and stopped it somehow. Now there was no telling what was going to happen. Would he still get paid? They were going to give him the woman anyway - did they really need to see her? Gregor nodded sharply, that was what he would argue. She was his, where she was was no one's business.

Straightening up, he checked the members of the group. Timur was leading Rabb, both were slump-shouldered with their heads down. Gregor relaxed a little. Timur would be fine after some sleep. Rabb, on the other hand, had to be growing weaker from the constant pain. There was no way he would be able to engineer an escape like his wife had. The horse wrangler was at the head of the line, leading the packhorse. For the life of him, Gregor couldn't decide if the wrangler had helped MacKenzie or not. All he seemed to care about were his horses. After they reached their destination, Gregor intended to find out one way or the other. Not that it really mattered, he still planned on killing the old man. They couldn't afford witnesses. However, if the fool had somehow helped the woman, Gregor would forego the bullet and tie the man's legs to each of his precious horses and send them home at a gallop.

A small rock careened by him and he nervously checked the slope above. Shooting at MacKenzie had apparently caused several avalanches. Fortunately, none of them had actually been on the trail - at least on this side of the Pass. The other side might be another story. Gregor snorted to himself, remembering the old man's words about 'waking the Devil'. Timur, the superstitious idiot, had looked like he was going to faint. Gregor didn't believe in the Devil anymore than he believed in God. They were all just stories spun by the supposedly pious to explain their sometimes less than stellar behavior. People were bloodthirsty savages and one didn't have to scratch very hard at the thin veneer of civilization to discover that. The strong preyed on the weak and that was that. No one would ever accuse Gregor Dostovich of being weak.

An hour later, they reached the summit of the pass and Gregor breathed a quiet sigh of relief. In another hour or two, they would reach the border and this misbegotten mission would be over. The trail dropped more steeply on far side, going through a series of switchbacks before suddenly opening up into a barren, flattened valley. Gregor didn't need to hear Timur's quiet moan of fear to know they were about to enter Tchort's Forest. It was a dark, ominous place. The ground was rocky and uneven, pitted with ridges and fissures as if the land was at war with itself. Stone spires ruptured the surface, interrupted by boulders that ranged in size from a basketball to a full-grown horse. A thick ground mist could be seen clinging to the outcroppings further in and a slightly sulfuric smell was in the air. Gregor snorted disdainfully. It was amazing what a ridiculous story a few ignorant locals could spread. This was nothing more than an unstable area of hot springs. The wrangler had stopped just short of entering the Forest and was looking back. Timur was also staring at him, white-faced. Gregor gestured in annoyance, "Go!" His money was waiting on the other side.

Harm grimaced as his mount started forward, the movement jarring his knee. The little man who was leading the horse didn't look very happy and Harm couldn't blame him. He didn't like the looks of the area they were about to enter, either. Knowing the bearded bastard was behind him, Harm had kept his head down, trying to maintain a defeated air. It served a dual purpose. Hopefully, he'd lull his captors into underestimating him and he was still busily working on the knots that held his wrists. He had a feeling he was going to need his hands free soon.

o o o o o

Mac watched silently from their position midway up the trail as Harm and his kidnappers entered what had to be Tchort's Forest. They'd caught up nearly thirty minutes ago but the terrain had been working against them. There was no way to close with their quarry without being seen too soon. It had killed her but she and Gunny Walters had followed at a safe distance.

"We can get ahead of them in there," Gunny whispered, studying the forbidding looking area.

'Or get hopelessly lost.' Mac didn't voice that thought out loud, merely nodding instead, "Let's do it then." The two Marines pulled back and moved swiftly down the trail. Reaching the valley, they sprinted from one area of cover to another until they made it to the edge of the Forest.

Gunny glanced over Mac, frowning a little, "Are you okay, ma'am?"

"Fine, just a headache," Mac gritted out. In truth, everything was starting to ache, like her entire body was finally protesting the stress and exertion she'd been putting herself through. She forced herself up, "Come on." The sun was beginning to set and this was the last place she wanted to be in the dark. Skirting around a spire of rock, they stepped into the ubiquitous ground mist. It was all Mac could do not to stop dead. It was like crossing an invisible border and a sense of evil suddenly invaded her senses, making it hard to breathe. She chanced a look at Dubby. He didn't look happy but, other than that, he seemed fine. She caught his attention and gestured for him to take point. He nodded silently, moving ahead. Mac followed, trying to look everywhere at once.

o o o o o

Cautiously, Josef made his way through the Forest. They had reached it at the worst possible time. It would be dark before they made it out the other side - if they made it out the other side. The air pressure itself seemed to be increasing and the packhorse, Sasha, was becoming more and more nervous. That wasn't a good sign. He murmured a few soothing words, keeping his eyes on the faint trail and making sure they didn't begin to veer. Years and years of navigating uncharted mountain trails had given him a fairly accurate internal compass. He would need it now. There was no such thing as landmarks within the Forest. The terrain was never the same twice. People could and had become lost inside, circling endlessly until death claimed them, one way or another. If they were lucky, it came quickly.

Harm kept shooting glances from side to side. The shadows were playing tricks with his eyesight, making him see dark figures out of the corner of his eyes that disappeared when he looked at them. This place was an oppressive nightmare and he found himself actually hoping Mac hadn't caught up yet. He hated to think what effect it would have on her. The little man leading his mount was having his own problems. He was pressed as close to the horse as possible, his head constantly swiveling from side to side and paying absolutely no attention to his prisoner. Harm had the distinct feeling if he leaned down and said 'boo', the man would drop dead of a heart attack right on the spot. He'd keep it in mind. He'd finally freed his hands and was waiting for some sort of opportunity. Taking off like Carol had wasn't an option. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand the jarring his knee would take at an increased pace even if he had any idea which way to go. What he was hoping was that the bastard in charge would come near enough that he could get his hands on him. Harm had more than one score to settle with that son of a bitch.


	25. Chapter 25

I was hoping to get this chapter up earlier today - like this morning - but the silly thing kept growing and growing. Finally, I arbitrarily stopped it at what seemed to be a natural pause in the story. I will apologize now to those of you who reach the end of this chapter and seriously consider hitting me with a brick. If I was reading this, I'd be hunting for something suitably heavy as well. In my defense, let me just say the Rev. Trask is about to complicate things. What's coming next can't be wrapped up in one or two more paragraphs and I draw the line at chapters that run over 5,000 words.

I'm finally getting caught up at work, however, I'm still behind on the writing (normally, I'm a chapter ahead of you and right now we're dead even) so I haven't had as much time as I usually do to re-read and tweak things. Please forgive any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise.

Chapter 25

Thursday,

Timisoara Airport

Timisoara, Romania

1610 Local

Ian Edgerton grabbed his case and duffel and followed Sokol off the private jet. He'd arrived in Bucharest about an hour earlier and literally been whisked away before he could reach the main terminal. The two large men escorting him had been extremely polite, assuring him that his luggage was being retrieved quickly. He'd been taken aboard a small jet and introduced to Major Sokol. The man had proven a convivial host, providing food and refreshments. He'd also put Ian in touch with Don Eppes via satellite phone once they were in the air and on their way to Timisoara. That was when Ian learned that his quarry was somewhere near a place called the Bymer Pass. Sokol had never heard of it but promised to have local guides on hand when they landed. Timisoara was the closest city that had an airport.

They walked to a waiting SUV. Ian stowed his gear in the back and then climbed in beside Sokol. He was tired but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He'd chased down fugitives before with even less sleep. He looked over at Sokol, "How long until we get to this Bymer Pass?" Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the driver jerk upright a little and frowned. Focusing on Sokol again, he saw that the KGB agent had seen the same reaction.

Sokol cleared his throat, still watching the driver, "Less than an hour, according to the maps. It has to be done on foot or on horseback."

Ian frowned a little. He didn't mind either mode of transportation but time was critical, "What about ATVs?" He watched the driver jerk again.

"I don't know," Sokol replied slowly, his attention still on the driver. He leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder, "Want to tell us what you know about the Bymer Pass?"

The man shot a wide-eyed look over his shoulder, before turning back to the road. "It is evil," he said finally, with a firm nod. "Only fools travel it willingly."

Ian raised an eyebrow, sharing a look with Sokol, "Evil? Don't you mean dangerous? Land can't be evil - it's just dirt and rock."

The driver shook his head vehemently, "It is evil - and dangerous. Satan lies in wait to claim the souls of the foolhardy. To travel the Bymer Pass is to die. Everyone knows that."

"I don't know that," Sokol snorted impatiently. "Can ATVs travel the Pass?"

"No." Again, the driver shook his head, sounding aggravated at being doubted. "Anything electronic will not work. Your ATVs would stop."

"Has anybody ever tried?" Sokol asked, annoyed. In his experience, local superstition tended to mask what usually turned out to be some less than legal activities. The perpetrators' goal in spreading the outrageous stories was to keep the curious away. The bigger the crime being concealed, the more lethal the legend became. A few dead bodies always helped seal the deal.

"Of course it has been tried," the driver answered derisively, "Condescending outsiders with their superior 'intelligence', intent on proving how backwards and superstitious we all are. We retrieved their bodies same as the others and yet they still persist. Only 'intellectuals' will put their hands in the fire twice."

"What if someone goes that way out of need?" Ian asked quietly.

The driver was silent for a minute, "It is hard to say. Some believe that God protected the righteous, others that the few who came back bargained away their souls to survive. It is a fact that of those that have survived and returned, many committed suicide within a year."

"I've heard of families living in the shadow of the Pass," Ian ventured, glancing at Sokol. "Are they bad people?"

The driver glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, "You speak of the Tarchevskys. They have been on their land for many generations. It is said the first of their family to settle there was Gavrill the Just and that he made a pact with God. So long as his descendants remain on the land and maintained their faith, they could travel the Pass with impunity. Old Josef Tarchevsky is a good man and I've heard tell that the Gavrill of old has come back in his eldest grandson."

Ian exchanged another look with Sokol. This was probably the first good news he'd had since arriving. They just might have an ally.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Edge of Tchort's Forest

Southeastern Bacovia

1620 Local

Harper made another circuit around the camp before stopping and gazing at the inhospitable collection of rocks and mist. He wasn't one of those ethereal types, didn't believe in sixth senses or any of that other new age crap but this place gave him the creeps. It was worse than anything Hollywood could have dreamed up. To make matters worse, every single cellphone that they possessed had stopped working. Worried about betrayal, Harper had left watchers behind to warn them if anyone showed up in pursuit. Now he had no way to communicate with any of them.

Turning around, he stared over at the Reverend Trask's tent. He didn't understand the man. After pushing to get to Dostovich and his prisoners, he called a stop just after crossing the border and ordered lunch. They'd been sitting here ever since. It didn't make sense. Harper swore quietly, standing for another minute or so. Finally, settling his shoulders, he marched up to Trask's tent. Ignoring the two rather bored looking guards, he rapped his knuckles on the tent pole and waited. Hearing Trask call 'enter', he pushed aside the tent flap and walked in.

Trask looked up from his book. He was propped up on a small cot, "Mr. Harper, is there a problem?"

Harper took a breath, "Sir, I - the men, we were wondering what we're waiting here for? The sun's starting to go down."

Trask smiled at him, "Patience, Mr. Harper. In order to succeed, we must move at the correct time."

"But - ," Harper paused, frowning, as their guide shoved his head in the tent.

"Now," he grunted at Trask, ignoring Harper completely. With that, he left, not waiting for a reply or acknowledgement.

Trask carefully closed his book, marking the page, and waved a hand at Harper, "You heard the man. Gather the men quickly, we must leave."

Harper controlled his annoyance with difficulty, "It will take time to break down the camp, sir." The wizened little gnome who guiding them hadn't grown any easier to like over these last hours. Had he caused this delay?

"Leave it," Trask ordered absently, "We'll be back here again in a few hours." He smiled in anticipation of watching Rabb's reaction. After all these years, to finally have revenge was as intoxicating as the finest Kentucky sipping whiskey. Realizing Harper was still standing there, he regarded the big man impatiently, "Well? Get moving."

"Yes sir," Harper turned and stalked out. "Get Reverend Trask ready," he snapped at the two guards. He eyed the Forest with distaste. The lengthening shadows made it appear even more sinister. He glanced back over his shoulder. Trask had become a different man ever since he conceived this plan for revenge and it was becoming more noticeable as they got closer and closer to his goal. Harper shook his head. He could almost feel sorry for the Rabbs.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Trailhead to the Bymer Pass

Bacovia

1635 Local

Oleg looked down at the man he'd just struck. "I think you should reconsider your decision," he said softly. He glanced over to where Jovan and Ilija were watching the woman and four children huddled around her. The oldest appeared to be about nine, while the youngest was still in diapers. "You have a nice family. It would be a shame if something were to happen to them."

"All right, all right!" Anatoli wiped gingerly at the blood trickling from his lip. "Just leave them alone." He climbed to his feet, watching Oleg warily, "It will take some time to get the horses ready. I do not have enough for all of you."

Oleg waved a hand, "I only need two. One for our supplies and another for one of my men." He pointed towards the barn, "Go and be quick. We have a lot of ground to cover." He looked over at Ilija, "Go tell Danijel and Filip we'll be leaving soon and have Filip assemble our supplies for the packhorse." As Ilija moved off, Oleg turned to contemplate the Pass. He'd been astonished when Dimitri called to tell him that Gregor was taking the Bymer Pass. That astonishment had turned quickly to suspicion. Gregor Dostovich was a merciless bastard and Oleg wouldn't put it past the man to collect the money and disappear. That wasn't going to happen if Oleg had anything to say about it. This mission had already cost him dearly. Stevan was dead, Toma missing and Danijel was wounded. The Bacovian army was out in force and it had taken them hours to get here while dodging checkpoints and patrols. If Gregor could escape through the Pass, so would Oleg - and make sure he was there to collect his share of the money.

Leonid flattened himself further into undergrowth as one of the men walked past his hiding place. The man, intent on his errand, never looked to the side. When he was past, Leonid carefully backed away. Once he was out of sight, he climbed to his feet and hurried back to where he'd hidden Rayna. Untying the mare, he paused for a few seconds, thinking hard. From what he'd heard, these men seemed to be part of the first group that his grandfather was leading and that wasn't good. Although they were hours behind, the American woman was eventually going to be caught between the two. Worse, whatever help was coming was now going to find both his father and grandfather with the wrong people. He could go down the mountain again to wait and try to convince them of his family's innocence but he had a feeling they wouldn't pay much attention to him. The other option would be traveling the Pass himself to try to reach the Americans first to warn them and then trying to get to his grandfather. If he did that, surely the Americans would vouch for him and his family and they wouldn't be punished along with the bad men.

Leonid frowned, looking in the direction of his home. Traveling the Pass meant taking supplies - it was beyond foolish to go into the mountains without some sort of preparation. Retying Rayna so that she could continue to graze, Leonid jogged back to the house, taking care to circle to the back and stay out of sight. Climbing in through his window, Leonid pulled his knapsack and bedroll from under the bed. Putting it by the window, he hurried to the kitchen. After peering out a window to make sure no one was coming to the house, he quickly turned to the pantry, pulling out the container of dried fruits and venison jerky they kept for trail supplies. Grabbing a small sack, he filled it and added several bottles of water. Ten minutes later, he was back with Rayna, attaching everything to the saddle, making sure nothing would bounce or flap to startle the mare. Untying Rayna once again, he checked the girth and swung himself up in the saddle. Turning her, he headed downhill a little way before circling towards the trail to the Pass. The afternoon shadows were lengthening and that would help. There would be a space of about twenty meters where he would be in sight and he planned on hugging the shadows as much as possible. Leonid could only pray that no one would look in his direction for those few minutes.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

1640 Local

"Ambassador Iliesca, thank you for coming," Daniel shook the older man's hand.

"I am only sorry that the circumstances are not the best," Iliesca bowed slightly. My wife and I extend our sympathies to the Royal family."

"Thank you," Daniel nodded. He swept an arm towards Arina, "And may I introduce you to Queen Margarete's personal assistant, Arina Dasmanov?"

The Ambassador politely shook the hand she extended and turned slightly, "And this is my assistant, Petrov Vrbaski." After the introductions and greetings were accomplished, he turned expectantly towards Daniel, "The Queen wishes to speak with me?" He'd been as surprised by who had made the request as he'd been at receiving it. According to his sources, Queen Margarete had been wounded along with her brother and Gheorghe had retaken the throne. The implications had worried the Ambassador greatly. The King had been increasingly difficult to deal with over the last year or so and Iliesca had taken to requesting Margarete's attendance as a sort of buffer. Fortunately, with Gheorghe's retirement looming, no one had been able to construe any insult to Iliesca's tactics. Margarete had every right to know what was transpiring between their countries firsthand. It had also given the Ambassador some insight into the future Queen.

"In private, sir, if you don't mind," Daniel rubbed the side of his nose. "There are some… ahh… issues… "

The Ambassador straightened slightly, quickly masking a look of alarm, "I have no objections." Now that the Queen was back, was Gheorghe refusing to step down? The last thing Romania needed was a civil war erupting on their border.

Daniel bowed his head, "Very good, sir." He walked up to the closed doors of the inner chamber and knocked softly. After a few seconds, he opened the door and gestured for the Ambassador to enter. Stiff-backed, Iliesca marched into the room. Daniel shut the door and remained standing there, smiling pleasantly at Vrbaski.

Iliesca walked up to where Cat was sitting and bowed, "Your Majesty, I am so sorry about the Prince. My wife and I have been quite concerned. How is he?"

"Thank you. He's made it through surgery and we are optimistic." Cat smiled warmly at the older man and gestured to a nearby chair, "Please have a seat, Ambassador." She waited for him to settle before carefully leaning forward a little, "I appreciate you coming so quickly. Our countries have been good friends and neighbors for a number of years, thanks in no small part to your efforts. What I have to say now is not general knowledge. May I rely upon your legendary discretion? Lives may depend upon it."

She watched his chest puff out a bit, while he smoothed his mustache with a finger. "Certainly, Your Majesty. How may I help?"

Cat glanced down at her hands, "I suppose you've heard that one of the guests, a close friend of the family, was taken during the attack?"

Iliesca leaned back, looking serious, "I have. An American military officer, correct? Surely their government is not holding you responsible for this horrible act?"

"No, not at all." Cat took a breath, "However, what has not been known is that the terrorists took a second hostage - my mother."

"What?" Iliesca rocketed forward, his eyes wide with shock. This certainly explained Gheorghe's actions. He recovered himself quickly, "Forgive me, Your Majesty, for the outburst. That is most distressing. Your mother - what can I do?"

Cat tipped her head, silently acknowledging his apology, "We have identified and arrested a number of people connected with the plot. We've also recently received word of the kidnappers' location and are currently in pursuit."

Iliesca frowned, "Then I'm afraid I don't understand. It sounds as if you have everything well in hand."

"They're going through the Bymer Pass." Cat watched his expression turn to shock once more and leaned forward again, "I am sending our military after them and I wish to ask for Romania's assistance. Can you block the Pass from your side and prevent the kidnappers from escaping, should they reach the border before we get to them? I'm afraid they are hours ahead of us."

He nodded firmly, "I will ask. I am sure my government would be most willing to cooperate in capturing these criminals and rescuing the Queen Mother."

Cat held up a hand, "Ambassador, it is imperative that no one knows my mother is one of the hostages. The kidnappers don't know either and they cannot find out. They would kill her."

"What? But how could they not know? Wasn't she the target?" Iliesca looked thoroughly confused.

"We believe the kidnappers were after the American officer and his wife. However, at the time of the attack, my mother happened to be dancing with him. My mother and the wife are close enough in appearance to be sisters." Cat shook her head. "It was truly a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If the kidnappers realize who they really have, I'm afraid they'll panic."

Iliesca straightened, tipping his head in an approximation of a bow, "No one will hear it from me, Your Majesty, and I will do my utmost to help bring about her rescue." He stood and bowed again, "By your leave, Your Majesty, the sooner I contact my government, the sooner help can be on its way to the Bymer Pass."

Cat nodded graciously, smiling up at him, "Thank you, Ambassador Iliesca. My family and our country will be in your debt." She watched him stride out of the room. A couple of minutes later, Daniel and Arina came in.

Daniel was rubbing his hands, "I trust it went well?"

Cat leaned wearily back in the chair, rubbing her forehead, "I believe so. He didn't ask about Daddy and promised his discretion as well as his government's assistance."

"He's a good man," Daniel nodded firmly, "With their bolt-hole blocked, these rats will be caught in the trap. We'll have the Queen Mother back by morning."

Arina was pulling the wheelchair out of the small alcove where it had been concealed, "You need to rest, Your Majesty. You've been up too long." Cat nodded silently, accepting Daniel's assistance into the wheelchair. As they made their way back to the rooms, she couldn't help worrying about what she'd done. The rats wouldn't be alone in that trap. Colonel Mac, Gunny Walters, Pick and Tink would be there, too.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

0530 Local

Ziva turned around and looked down at the fluffy black and white kitten. The little female had been shadowing her whenever she'd been in the house and she'd just gotten back in after another circuit of the property. So far, everything had remained quiet. Ziva didn't really expect anything different. Their arsonist was working alone and even if Gibbs was right and they'd try again, she didn't see how they could move that quickly. Kneeling, Ziva wiggled her fingers at the kitten, picking her up when the cat came forward, "So, Miss Purrl, you're joining the patrol again? Shouldn't you be sleeping with your brother?" Standing up, she smiled as the kitten mewed softly and began to purr. Cat tucked in one arm, Ziva moved down the hallway, listening to the sounds of the house. They'd become more familiar as the hours had gone by. Occasionally, there were odd thumps and twice, she'd have sworn she heard a whispering conversation in one room or another but nothing was ever there. She'd been aware of the house's reputation but hadn't put much stock in it. Hadn't anyway, at the beginning of the night. Now however, she was beginning to think there might be something to it. It might have even become a bit unnerving - that feeling of being watched even though no one was around - if Purrl hadn't been so reassuringly normal. She flicked her ears at the strange noises and that was that. Ziva refused to be less sanguine than a cat.

Kate watched the Mossad officer walk down the hallway, frowning slightly. Earlier, she'd followed Tim back to NCIS headquarters and helped him break the arsonist's story. It had been an interesting experience - she been drawn to the monitor because of the power. Finding she could manipulate it and the electricity as well had been a surprise. When she realized that McGee could 'see' her in the interference, she'd pulled back. After the arsonist confessed, Kate had swept through the building, unable to resist checking in with Abby, Tony and Ducky. After that, it'd gotten too hard to deal with and she'd fled back to the house. She'd closed that chapter when she lost her life. This was her reality now.

Following Ziva, Kate was unsure how she felt about her 'replacement'. That Gibbs trusted the young woman spoke volumes and Kate certainly couldn't fault Ziva's vigilance in keeping an eye on the place. Maybe she was just feeling territorial about Mac's new home. Kate sighed a little, knowing her worry over what was happening in Bacovia wasn't helping. She was aware of what Avis was doing as well as what she and Mac were up against. It was hard not to join them. Kate had the distinct feeling she was going to be needed there before too long. She glanced to the side when Tess appeared.

The woman nodded in Ziva's direction, "She's good, isn't she?"

Kate shrugged a little, "She's Mossad."

Tess looked at her and raised an eyebrow, "I have no idea what that means."

"She's an intelligence officer for Israel," Kate explained.

"Never heard of it," Tess replied, "but we could use a few more of her. It's hard having to deal with the physical world as well as our own."

Kate frowned, "But they've pulled back. I can barely sense them."

Tess waved a hand, "After everything that went on last night, there's going to be a pause. It's always been an ebb and flow. Phin thinks that it's Washington itself that is a magnet for both forces and we're just a small island in the river."

"And sometimes that river floods," Kate added with a sigh. "I understand." They watched Ziva greet a sleepy-looking Mattie and keep moving. Kate stopped suddenly, her eyes widening, and looked at Tess, "I have to go. Mac needs me."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Tchort's Forest

Southeastern Bacovia

1655 Local

Josef turned to the right, skirting around a large outcropping of rock in the small clearing. The light was growing dimmer and his unease was growing. He'd been through the Forest numerous times and while it was never a pleasant experience, it had never felt quite like this. He glanced over his shoulder, frowning slightly. Of course, he'd never had to lead someone so firmly anchored on the path to evil before. The bully was attracting unwanted attention. Josef fingered the medallion of St. Christopher, wondering if the patron saint of travelers would deem him worthy of protection. Both he and Sasha jumped as a dark figure rose up on the far side of the rock. He was even more surprised when a woman's voice whispered, 'Friend' in accented Russian and gestured for him to move behind her. Josef hurried to comply, ducking behind the rocks, pulling Sasha with him. The woman moved forward, bringing a rifle up to her shoulder as she stepped into the path.

Timur stared hard into the mists on his side of the trail, positive he'd seen something moving among the rocks. This was absolutely the worst place he'd ever been. Why did he ever agree to this? No amount of money was worth the sort of death that came with the Bymer Pass. He swallowed nervously, glancing back over his shoulder at Gregor. Not surprisingly, Gregor seemed completely unaffected by their surroundings. He was stomping along just behind Rabb's horse, scowling indiscriminately as he alternated watching his footing with gazing from side to side. With a heavy sigh, Timur turned back and jerked to a sudden halt, nearly nose to nose with the muzzle of a rifle. Squealing in surprise, he threw himself backwards, stumbling over the broken ground. He smacked into the horse, making it throw its head up and leap back.

The move caught Harm by surprise. The loop on his wrists was just for show now and he'd undone the ropes keeping him in the saddle. He'd been feeling more anxious the further they moved into this godforsaken place. Part of that was the oppressive feel in the air but mostly it was because he knew Mac was close, although he couldn't tell exactly where. This had to be the place that had been giving her nightmares and now she was in the middle of it - because of him. He'd been keeping his head down, biding his time and listening to the bastard behind him. If that SOB would move up a little more, Harm would do his best to improve Mac's odds by taking the man out of the equation.

The sudden, unexpected jump threw him forward against the horse's neck and then he rebounded backwards. Losing his balance, Harm began slipping off the side and grabbed frantically at the saddle. That's when he saw Mac standing in front of them with a rifle and froze. The split-second of inattention made him miss his grip and Harm felt himself falling. Although he tried to brace for it, hitting the hard ground knocked the wind out of him and sent waves of agony radiating from his knee.

Gregor jerked to a halt and leaped sideways as Timur stumbled backwards into the horse, forcing it to jump back as well. His eyes widened at the sight of the black-clad figure with a rifle and he dug frantically into his pocket for the .45. A second later, he heard a deep voice behind him order, 'Freeze!' Rabb came off the horse a moment later and Gregor took a chance and dove at the man as he lay gasping on the ground. Landing halfway across Rabb, he wrapped both hands in the man's jacket, pulling him along as he rolled under the horse's legs. Narrowly avoiding the dancing hooves, he came up on the far side. Scrambling to his feet, he yanked Rabb up with him. Wrapping an arm across Harm's chest, he pulled the nearly unconscious man up against him as he spun around. Bracing himself against a large boulder, Gregor pulled out the .45 as he faced his attackers. "Stay back!" he shouted angrily, shoving the muzzle against the side of Harm's head.

Horrified, Mac stood frozen as Harm hit the ground and the bearded man jumped on him, dragging him underneath the panicking horse. The next moment she was gasping as a solid weight hit her in the midsection, taking her to the ground. Wheezing from the impact, she managed to bring the rifle back in front of her in time to block the knife descending towards her chest. Bringing her feet in, Mac bucked and twisted, throwing the little man off. He rolled as he landed, coming back up in a crouch and launched himself at her again. Once again, Mac parried the knife with the rifle. Catching the blade on the barrel, she flung the man's arm wide and drove the rifle butt into his face, dropping him in an unconscious heap. Panting, she scrambled to her feet, turning back to Harm.

What she found was an impasse as Dubby and the bearded man glared at each other. The Gunny had his rifle trained on the man and the man had a .45 up against Harm's head. He was braced against a large rock, holding a semi-conscious Harm in front of him as a shield. When he saw her regain her feet, he crouched a little more, making Harm arch backwards with a pain-filled groan. An icy rage filled her, and Mac threw the rifle up to her shoulder, taking dead aim. "Put the gun down," she ordered in Russian.

Gregor blinked in surprise as a woman's voice in American-accented Russian came from the lithe black-clad figure. Recovering, he tightened his grip, sneering back, "I don't think so. You put your guns down or I kill him."

"No. Put it down. I won't tell you again," came the icy response. The rifle never wavered.

Somewhat unnerved, Gregor glanced between the two. He'd been bluffing and they knew it. Killing Rabb now was the same as suicide and that wasn't an option. Dammit, he couldn't stand here forever and, ironically, Rabb's injured leg kept Gregor from moving as well. It was a safe bet that one of his two opponents would have an opening if he tried. He needed to even the odds. "What about a deal?" he called. Gregor gave Harm a shake, making him gasp, "He's worth a lot of money. We can split it."

"No." The woman might have been carved from stone.

Muttering an expletive, Gregor hunkered down a bit more, his anger growing. It wasn't fair. He was so damn close. "What do you want?" he yelled.

Dubby listened to the exchange in Russian, keeping his sights trained for any opening the kidnapper might show. He'd take the shot if he got it and end this. He was growing as worried about Sarah as he was about the Commander. Something about this place was affecting her badly although she was doing her best to conceal it. He hadn't missed the tremors that were shaking her or the sweat that'd been dripping down her face even though the temperature was cooling. It was a testament to her strength of will that her aim was rock-steady right now.

Mac inhaled slowly as she watched the man and Harm, trying to regulate her breathing and rapidly beating heart. Her head was pounding unmercifully, exacerbated by the effort of defending herself. Harm seemed to be regaining his senses although he looked as bad as Carol had and it was obvious his right leg was causing him a great deal of pain. She blinked suddenly as the man yelled out his last question, her eyes drawn to shadows behind him. They were merging and growing, becoming more threatening and she heard a low, ominous rumble. Resolutely, she clamped down on the fear, focusing on her opponent. "You. Give up," she called back in a rasping growl.

The shadows expanded suddenly and Mac staggered as a dizzying wave of exhaustion hit her, turning her limbs to water. It was all she could do to keep her feet. A warm presence filled her next, restoring some semblance of strength. Grateful for the respite, Mac forced her attention back to the man. Her eyes widened as she realized the lapse was about to cost her dearly. The .45 was pointed right at her and a moment later the man fired.

Gregor's rage increased when the woman demanded he surrender. No mere female was going to ruin everything he'd worked so hard for. His anger turned to glee a few moments later when the woman suddenly faltered. The weaker sex had just revealed itself. Never hesitating, he pulled the pistol away from Rabb and as the woman straightened again, squeezed the trigger.

Harm blinked rapidly, fighting his way back through the red-tinged haze of pain. Gradually, he became aware of the crushingly powerful arm wrapped around his chest, holding him upright and making it hard to breathe. He could hear voices but the words didn't make any sense. The arm shook him a moment later and he gasped as his knee protested. The jolt of pain helped clear away more of the fog and now Harm could feel the hard metal of a gun muzzle pressed against the side of his head. Still grimacing, he raised his eyes up and felt a sudden shock. Mac was standing like a statue less than twenty feet away, her rifle aimed in his direction. Cautiously, he swung his eyes across the small clearing and saw Gunny Walters at almost a right angle to Mac, also in a shooter's stance. Worry and hope fought within him. It was obvious the bastard was using him as a shield. It was equally obvious, Mac and Dubby weren't going to let the SOB leave.

A few seconds later, he watched in horror as Mac's face drained of color and she staggered. The episode only lasted moments and she straightened quickly but the damage was done. Harm felt the gun swiftly leave his head, then extend past him, pointing directly at Mac. Frantic, he swung his hands up just as the gun fired. The deafening report had his ears ringing. At nearly the same time, he was yanked backwards and suddenly released. Unable to keep his balance, Harm fell forward, landing with a pain-filled grunt.

Shocked, Dubby saw the Colonel's legs buckle in his peripheral vision. The bearded man reacted immediately, pulling his gun away from Harm and firing point-blank at Sarah. Dubby fired at nearly the same time, making it sound like a single shot. The man fell backwards, suddenly limp while the Commander pitched forward. Cursing, Dubby sprinted towards them. He was the only one still standing.


	26. Chapter 26

Finally - here's the next chapter. Thanks for the reviews and for being so patient.

Chapter 26

Thursday,

Tchort's Forest

Southeastern Bacovia

1710 Local

Dubby only managed a couple of strides when there was a deep, subterranean boom and the ground heaved under his feet, knocking him down. It continued to shake for a few seconds and Dubby covered his head with his arms as small rocks rained down around him. When it stopped, he raised himself up, looking around. When he looked towards the Colonel, his eyes widened and he scrambled forward.

Hitting the ground, Harm laid there gasping for a few moments before forcing his head up and looking for Mac. He swore when he saw her lying motionless and began dragging himself towards her. There was a sudden boom and the ground bucked beneath him. Clenching his jaw in pain, he rolled on his back trying to protect his knee as the violent shaking continued. An outcropping of rock near Mac shattered, flinging small rocks everywhere. Throwing his arms up to protect his face, Harm craned his neck around to look for Mac. As he watched in shock, the ground underneath her shot upwards, causing her limp body to roll and slide forward. At the same time, a crack opened at the bottom of the slope. Harm started scrambling, ignoring the searing pain. He reached the widening chasm just as she did, shooting out a hand and snagging the back of her jacket as she tumbled over the edge. The sudden weight yanked him over the edge as well and Harm knew a moment of abject fear that they were both going to plunge to their deaths.

He had slid almost to his waist when a heavy weight landed on his lower back and stopped his momentum. Harm groaned at the impact, feeling like he was being smashed in two. Mac was unconscious - he refused to consider the idea she might be dead - and completely limp.

"Commander Rabb! The Colonel - "

"I've got her," Harm managed through gritted teeth, relieved to hear Dubby's voice. Knowing he wasn't going to fall, Harm clenched his jaw and reached with his other hand, managing to grab another handful of her jacket. It relieved the strain on his arm and shoulder but he had no leverage at all. Gasping from the exertion, Harm looked over his shoulder, "Can you pull us up?"

"Don't know," Dubby grunted, trying find some way to adjust his grip without letting the Commander slide the rest of the way over. He started in surprise when the old man who'd been the guide knelt down next to him and grabbed hold of Harm's coat. Dubby gave the man a grateful nod and shifted his grip to Harm's other side, "Ready? On 3, 1 - 2 - Pull!" They slid Harm back until it was just his shoulders and arms hanging over the edge. While Josef continued to hold Harm, Dubby scrambled forward and reached over the edge to grab hold of Mac, too. On his signal, all three heaved and dragged Mac back onto solid ground.

"Thanks," Harm panted, letting his forehead rest on the ground for a moment before forcing himself to sit up. He was almost afraid to look. Mac lay unmoving, half curled on her side. Gritting his teeth, Harm moved himself closer. He let go a sigh of relief a moment later, "She's breathing." He put a hand on her shoulder to roll her onto her back and pulled it back suddenly, staring at his fingers, "Oh God, blood."

Dubby scooted forward. "Okay, let's take a look," he said calmly. He looked over at Josef, pointing to where he'd been standing earlier, "Sir, my backpack is over there. Would you bring it here, please?" While Josef went to retrieve it, Dubby reached forward and unzipped the jacket. With Harm's help, they carefully peeled it back and slid it down her arm. Josef returned with the pack and Dubby reached in, pulling out a first aid kit. Grabbing the scissors, he cut away the black turtleneck. He relaxed then, shooting Harm a relieved smile, "Looks like a graze." The bullet had caught the top of her shoulder, close to her neck and dug a shallow furrow down her back almost parallel to the shoulder blade. From the angle, he figured the Colonel had been diving down when she was hit. She'd nearly made it.

Harm nodded, staring worriedly at Mac as Dubby dressed the wound. She was still unconscious and that couldn't be good. Once Dubby was finished and had closed up her jacket, they rolled her over on her back. "Damn," Harm breathed softly. Blood and dirt mingled freely on the right side of Mac's face. A jagged gash started at her hairline and vanished sideways into her scalp.

"Must have hit a rock. Go figure," Dubby muttered, half to himself as he pulled out more gauze pads and began cleaning away the blood. The ground was littered with all manner and sizes of rocks. It would have been a miracle if she hadn't landed on something.

"Sarah."

Mac snuggled deeper under the covers, muttering, "Five more minutes."

"No, Sarah, you have to wake up now. This is wrong."

"But I'm tired," Mac kept her eyes shut. Tired was putting it mildly. She was utterly, completely exhausted. Even opening her eyes at this point seemed like too much effort. It was comfortably warm here, quiet and peaceful. She felt like she could sleep forever.

"Snap to! Get your ass up, Marine! Now!" Another voice thundered suddenly in her ear.

Reflexively, Mac's eyes popped open as she tried to sit up. She didn't get very far as pain lanced across her back and head. She felt hands pushing her down and struggled, groaning.

"Let her sit up."

At the familiar voice, Mac blinked rapidly, trying to clear her blurry vision. She raised a hand, hardly daring to hope, "Harm?"

"Right here. I've got you," he replied warmly, shifting so she could lean against his side and tucking an arm around her waist.

She relaxed against him, feeling safe, even though her head was swimming painfully and her eyesight blurred. Mac squinted at a dark shape to her right, "Dubby?"

"Yes, ma'am," the Gunny sounded relieved. "As soon as I finish with the Commander's knee, we'll see about getting out of here."

Mac started to nod and stopped as a wave of dizziness hit her. Breathing out slowly, she blinked, noticing the two glowing figures just behind Dubby. Mac smiled faintly, "Hey, I can see you. When did you get here, Kate?"

Kate shot a surprised look at Avis before replying, "Not as soon as I would have liked. How are you feeling?"

"Like I just came off the Tilt-A-Whirl... head first," Mac turned her attention to Avis, "It's over, right? We won?"

Avis stepped forward, her manner intent, "No, it's not. You have to leave this place now. He's coming."

Harm shot a quick look at Dubby and the old man. Dubby had stopped wrapping Harm's knee and was staring at Mac. The old man, on the other hand, was crossing himself and staring at the same place Mac was. Frowning, Harm turned his attention back to Mac who had tensed suddenly. "You can see them? What are they saying?" He held up a hand when Dubby started to speak.

Trying not to move her head, Mac rolled her eyes in his direction. He could hear a note of fear in her voice, "We have to get out of here. Right now."

Harm swung back towards Dubby, "Gunny - ?"

"Yes sir," Dubby hurriedly tied off the makeshift splints. He wasn't sure how the old man had come up with pieces of wood that were usable, but he had. Hopefully, the Commander would be able to walk with a little help. The horses were probably halfway home by now, frightened off by the earthquake. He stood up and turned only to suddenly find himself on the ground, feeling like one of the horses had come back and kicked him solidly in the ribs. It was hard to breathe.

Harm froze for a split second as gunshots reverberated through the clearing and both Dubby and the old man collapsed. Tightening his hold on Mac, he threw them both down, matching her gasp of pain with one of his own. The shots were still echoing when four men appeared. Two roughly yanked Mac up, her pained exclamation suddenly cut off as she fainted. The other two grabbed Harm by the arms and pulled him up, ignoring his own cry of pain. Panting, Harm balanced on one leg while he looked at his new assailants, "What do you want?" When they ignored him, he twisted in their grip, trying to look over his shoulder to see Mac. A sudden, hard blow to his mid-section caught him unexpectedly and Harm sagged between his captors, gasping.

"Good to see you again, Rabb," Harper stood in front of the JAG officer, smiling grimly. He motioned the men holding Mac to come forward. At a gesture, they threw the unconscious woman down at Harper's feet. He nudged her with a foot, "I understand congratulations are in order. This is your lovely bride?"

"Get away from her," Harm wheezed. It felt like his lungs were on fire.

Harper grinned and squatted down, grabbing Mac's shoulder and pulling her over on her back. She moaned but didn't open her eyes. Raising an eyebrow at an increasingly tense Harm, Harper grabbed her by the chin and turned her face towards him, studying it, "She's looking a bit worse for wear, Rabb. I don't think marriage is agreeing with her."

"Get your hands off her," Harm's voice was deadly quiet.

Harper stood up, still smiling. His hand shot out, delivering a stinging slap across Harm's face. "I'm going to put more than my hands on her, Rabb, and there's nothing you can do about it." He waited for Harm's eyes to refocus, "Maybe if you asked me politely?" Harper kicked Mac in the side causing her to groan and attempt to shift away. He watched Harm lunge at him and laughed, "I said politely, Rabb." He drew back and kicked Mac again.

"Stop. Please," Harm forced out, looking at Mac in anguish.

"I don't know," Harper mused, pulling his foot back once more.

"Mr. Harper, is that any way to treat a guest?"

Harper straightened up, turning as the guide led Trask's horse into the clearing. "Just catching up, sir," he answered, clasping his hands behind his back. He glanced at the guide with barely hidden aversion.

"That's nice," Trask smiled brightly before turning his attention to a shocked-looking Harm. "Surprised, Commander? I was hoping you'd remember me." His eyebrows lowered ominously, "I've certainly remembered you. We have some unfinished business to attend to." He glanced around the clearing, taking in the body of Gregor slumped over near a large boulder, a bullet hole over his left eye. They'd passed another body on the way in. A little man unlucky enough to get himself crushed by a large chunk of rock. Trask directed a slight smile at Harm, "I suppose I owe you something for taking care of housekeeping for me. Cleaning up loose ends can get so tiresome." He paused, his attention diverted by the guide and frowned impatiently, "What are you doing?"

The man looked up, a large rock in his hands as he stood over Dubby, "These two are still breathing."

"Leave them," Trask ordered after a moment's thought. "They'll die soon enough. Let them have some time to contemplate their sins. No one's going to find them here." His frown deepened when the guide continued to stand there. "I said, leave them," his voice colder than ice. His expression cleared as the man trudged back. He smiled pleasantly again, "Shall we return to camp, gentlemen? And as a thank you for his services, let's let Commander Rabb escort his wife." He shot an amused glance at Harper before looking back at Harm, "Think of it as your own personal route to Calvary."

Harper nodded, pleased with the decision. He and the rest of the men had just gotten permission to amuse themselves on the way back. He signaled the men to release Harm, watching the man stagger and wince while attempting to balance. He jerked a thumb at Mac, "Get your wife, Rabb, and get moving." He leaned in a little, smiling, "Just remember - your wife won't be happy if you can't handle it, but my men will certainly enjoy taking turns with her." He held up a finger, waggling it from side to side when it looked like Harm was about to swear, "Ah-ah, remember who pays for your rudeness. Get going." After staring at Harper for another second, Harm limped forward and carefully lowered himself. Keeping his voice down, he patted her cheek gently, "Mac? Can you hear me? You need to get up." He shot a quick look at Harper and Trask. "Mac, please. You have to wake up." If she wasn't at least somewhat conscious, he wasn't sure how he was going to get her on her feet. Failure, however, wasn't an option.

Kate shot a glare at Avis as the four men pounced on Mac and Harm, "We have to stop them."

"No," Avis shook her head, watching unhappily as Harm and Sarah endured more abuse. When Kate started to move anyway, she put out a hand, effectively stopping the other woman, "Don't. It will make things worse."

"How?" Kate snapped.

Avis turned with a hard stare, "The Forest has claimed two souls and it craves more. Violence and death make it that much stronger. We must be patient - and subtle."

Chastened, Kate nodded unhappily. She knew Avis saw more than she did but it was difficult to accept. Not doing everything she could to protect Harm and Mac was going against every fiber of her being. Frustrated, she scrubbed her hands through her hair and forced herself to concentrate on Avis. There was a small island of calm around the woman that resisted the teeming maelstrom that permeated the area. Kate knew she couldn't manage something like that on her own. Her fists clenched involuntarily as the man kicked Mac a second time, "There must be something we can do!"

Avis reluctantly shook her head again, "Not here, not now. You saw what happened earlier. Sarah and Harm are being targeted. Starting a confrontation will result in reprisals aimed directly at them and neither can handle much more. They must leave this place." The two women fell silent as Trask was led into the clearing. Kate glanced over at the blonde and saw a look of intense concentration. When Trask finally announced they would return to their camp, there was an almost imperceptible relaxation in her posture. Avis then turned to Kate, "Now you may help Sarah and Harm but be very careful. If you can delay the travel of Trask and his men without arousing suspicion, it will help."

Kate gave a quick nod, eager to be doing anything rather than watching and then paused, frowning a little, "Where will you be?"

Avis looked over to where Dubby and Josef were lying, her expression fierce, "The Forest will not claim these two. I must go talk to the horses."

Startled, Kate nodded again and turned back to the JAG officers. In moments, she was next to Harm, adding her voice to his. Between the two, they got Mac to open her eyes and sit up although it was obvious she wasn't all there. Harm pulled her arm across his shoulders, apologizing as she winced. He gritted his own teeth next, not at all sure he would be able to get them both standing. Kate braced him on his weak side and helped lift. The look on Harm's face when he regained his feet was priceless.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1710 Local

Leonid jogged beside Rayna, trying to conserve her strength while not losing any time. He knew he was probably only a little more than thirty minutes ahead of his father and the men. Having to concentrate on his feet and the uneven ground helped keep some of the fear at bay. While he'd traveled in the mountains before, it had always been with his grandfather or father and never had it been this particular trail. When he'd asked his father about it, Papa had gruffly told him that he wasn't old enough. His grandfather had been a bit more forthcoming but after explaining the usual dangers of avalanches, predators and unstable ground, had gone off on a tangent about good and evil that left Leonid's head spinning. He hadn't asked again. Now he wished he had.

Fifteen minutes later, he swung himself up into the saddle again, slowing Rayna to a walk as they started up an incline that twisted and turned. Leonid divided his attention between the mare and the steep slopes bordering this section of the path. The only predator large enough to take on both him and Rayna would be a bear, and that wasn't likely to happen unless he somehow managed corner one and provoke it. That didn't mean the mere appearance of one couldn't be a problem. Leonid had no wish to taken by surprise if Rayna spooked.

They were almost to the top of the slope when Rayna's head and ears came up. Leonid tensed, bringing the mare to a halt. Not being able to see very far ahead, he listened intently while trying to decide what to do. There wasn't any place to hide along this stretch of the trail and he really didn't want to go back with those men behind him. He was going to meet whatever had Rayna's attention, the only question was whether he went to it or waited for it to come to him. After glancing over his shoulder for a moment to the trail behind, Leonid sent the mare forward. His grandfather always said running from fear made it twice as bad. Whatever was up there, it would be best to get it over with.

He reached the summit without incident, went around the next bend and stopped dead. Leonid's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he stared at one of the biggest men he'd ever seen. He was even taller and wider than Uncle Aleksel, making the horse he was leading look like a pony. Leonid inhaled sharply and then he couldn't help himself. Running into this man on top of the stress of traveling the Bymer Pass by himself and the fear for his family was more than he could stand. He could feel the scream starting in his belly. The man seemed to realize what was about to happen as well. His look of surprise turned to one of alarm. Faster than Leonid could have believed possible for someone that size, the man closed the distance between them. One huge hand covered his mouth while the other plucked him off Rayna. Leonid was too shocked for a couple of seconds to even struggle and then he started to fight.

Tink grunted as the boy's heels connected with his leg. It was getting harder to contain the kid without hurting him but Tink didn't dare release him either. They were less than an hour from the trailhead and neither he nor Pick wanted to attract unnecessary attention. "Tyler!" he growled in a low whisper, "Do something!"

"I'm trying," Pick snapped back quietly, hovering behind the big man. Between Tink, the boy and the horses, the trail was effectively blocked, "Move over, will you? You're taking up more space than the horse."

Grumbling, Tink edged to the side, bracing his back against the steep slope on the uphill side of the trail. If there was any justice in the world, the kid would score a good, solid kick on Tyler as he moved past. Leonid blinked and quit fighting abruptly as the words in english finally registered. These were Americans! Tink felt the boy relax and cautiously loosened his hold. Life was damned unfair, Pick had escaped unscathed.

Pick eyed the boy now standing quietly in front of Tink. "Who are you?" he asked in russian.

Leonid unconsciously straightened, throwing his shoulders back, "Leonid Tarchevsky."

Pick exchanged a look with Tink, "What are you doing out here by yourself?"

"Looking for you," Leonid's voice trailed off as he stared at the horses now standing together. He spun back to Pick, "That's Gavrill! He was with my grandfather! How did you get him? Where's my grandfather? What did you do?"

PIck held up his hands, reverting back to english, "Whoa - slow down." His russian wasn't good enough to follow Leonid's rapid speech but he caught the word for grandfather and with the boy staring at the horses, it wasn't hard to figure out what was upsetting him. Pick glanced at the bay, considering what to do. He looked back at Leonid, "Do you speak any english?" When the boy nodded slowly, Pick exhaled softly, "Okay. Do you know about the men who hired your grandfather?" Leonid frowned for a long moment before nodding even more slowly. Pick wasn't sure if it was because he was trying decipher the words or because he knew his grandfather was with the bad guys. "Your grandfather helped one of their prisoners escape and we found her. She was riding Gavrill." Pick had gotten that much out of Carol during the few times she'd been awake.

Leonid's eyes' widened a bit and he shot another look at Gavrill, noticing the travois for the first time. It also reminded him of why he'd been trying to find the Americans. He looked back at Pick, suddenly anxious, "More bad men are coming!"

Tink stepped forward, automatically unslinging the rifle off his shoulder, "What?"

Leonid spun around and gulped nervously, it was hard finding the right words in english. "Bad men - following other bad men. They have Papa."

"How many?" Pick asked intently.

Leonid held up a hand, fingers spread, looking between the two men.

"How far behind are they?" Pick scrubbed a hand through his hair, sharing a look with Tink. The odds weren't looking good.

"Not far," Leonid said unhappily. He'd lost track of how much time had passed since running into the Americans.

"Damn," Pick muttered. He'd have to figure they'd show up sooner rather than later. "We need a defensible position."

Tink nodded silently. They stood quietly for a moment, reviewing the trail they'd just been over. There weren't a lot of options. Tink finally looked at Tyler, "That little clearing a half mile back? It's narrower at one end. We might be able to block it up, force them to come through one at a time. There's some cover on one side."

Pick nodded, "Sounds like our best shot." He looked at Leonid, frowning, "You'd better come with us." He didn't like the idea but leaving the boy for the bad guys was even worse. "Let's go." The three turned towards the horses and Pick and Tink stopped, both seeing their next problem at the same time. There was no room to turn the travois around.

Tink looked at Pick, "Do you think she can ride again?"

"I don't think we have a choice," Pick frowned. He moved to the travois and knelt beside it, "Ma'am? We've got a problem. DId you hear any of that?" She'd been awake about half the trip although she hadn't been very talkative. Pick wasn't that surprised, he could tell she was in pain, so he talked instead. Every now and then, especially when he was telling family stories, he'd get a ghost of a smile out of her.

Carol pried open her eyes to look at him and cleared her throat, "What's wrong?" Stopping had given her a reprieve from the constant jarring of the travois and made it easier to drift off. The pain from her hand and arm was sapping what little energy she had.

Pick hesitated a second, "We're about to get company and it's not good. We have to go back a ways and dig in." When she nodded slowly, he rubbed the back of his neck, "The thing is, there's no room to turn the travois around. Do you think you could ride again?" He watched anxiously as Carol closed her eyes for a second and then hurriedly reached forward as she forced herself to sit up.

She tried not to flinch when she felt his hands on her back. "Help me up, please," she asked quietly.

"Yes ma'am," Pick shot a look at Tink who nodded and stepped forward.

He crouched down in front of her, extending his hands carefully, "With your permission, ma'am?" When she nodded, he wrapped his hands around her waist. Between her broken right hand and wounded left arm, there wasn't any other way to get her to her feet. Tink tightened his hold and raised himself up, bringing her up with him. She wasn't at all steady and Tink held on while Pick detached the travois, rolled it up and tied it in a neat bundle.

At a quiet word from Pick, Leonid led Gavrill over to the woman and held him steady while the big man lifted her into the saddle. Tink stayed close by as she sat slumped with her hands in her lap and her head down. Despite that, Leonid was surprised to see she had a good seat and that Gavrill was waiting attentively. He went back to Rayna and swung himself up, riding over to stand next to Gavrill.

Tyler picked up the travois and balanced it on one shoulder. There was nowhere to hide it and he didn't want to toss it down the mountain. Hopefully, they'd be using it again. He nodded to Tink, "I'm ready. Let's go." With a little luck, they would have enough time to prepare for this latest threat. They moved out. Ten minutes later, they reached the clearing. Immediately, the two men split up. Pick led Carol and Leonid towards a nest of boulders while Tink began blocking the entrance with rocks, trying to make it look like a natural occurrence. They needed to spread these guys out and catch them unaware.

Pick eased Carol off the bay while Leonid held the lead rope. Her legs buckled almost as soon as she touched the ground and Pick wrapped her up in a hug to keep her from falling. "I'm sorry," he apologized as she gasped, burying her face in his shoulder.

Carol shook her head. "Not your fault," she managed breathlessly. She kept her eyes closed as he carefully lowered her down to the ground, leaning her up against a boulder. She could feel him hovering and shook her head slowly, "Go. Do what you have to do. I'll be fine." Carol listened as he hesitated a few more moments before getting up and moving off. Drawing her feet up, she leaned her head back with a sigh. A minute or so later, Carol frowned, feeling like she was being watched. Cracking open an eye, she saw a boy of about twelve or so hunkered down on his heels, watching her intently. He flushed a little at being caught. Carol exhaled slowly, "Hello."

He blinked at being addressed in russian, and replied quickly, "Are you alright?"

"I've been better," she smiled slightly. "What's your name?"

"Leonid." He hesitated for a moment, "They said my grandfather helped you get away?"

Carol looked at him in surprise before smiling again and nodding slowly, "So you're Leonid. Your grandfather says you're very good with the horses. Did you help train Gavrill?"

It was his turn to look surprised and Leonid blushed. His grandfather was chary when handing out praise. It was gratifying to know. He shrugged, "A little - I have a lot to learn. My grandfather is a very good trainer and Gavrill is our best horse. Many people have asked to buy him but Grandfather won't sell."

"My father raises and trains horses, too," Carol nodded. "He's been like that with a horse or two over the years." She watched the boy relax much like his grandfather had as they continued to compare various horses they'd known. Leonid had laughed softly at her description of Calypso and the mare's irascible ways.

Their quiet conversation stopped abruptly when Pick suddenly appeared. He put a finger to his lips, whispering, "They're almost here. Stay down, don't make any noise." He looked at Leonid, "The horses are secure?" He blinked a little when Carol repeated what he'd said in russian.

The boy nodded silently, his eyes wide, "My papa... "

Pick held up a hand. "I've met him, we know what he looks like. Stay down." he repeated and disappeared. A minute later, gunfire erupted. Carol hunched her shoulders, dropping her head and found Leonid curled up against her side a few seconds later. Carefully draping her right arm around his shoulders, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed.


	27. Chapter 27

Sorry for the delay in posting. Hit a word stoppage and tried working through it - the result was a bunch of re-writing. It's frustrating when I know where I want to end up and it feels like I can't get there from here. I imagine it's even more frustrating for you, wondering what the heck's going on. I'm still not entirely pleased with this chapter but I guess it will have to do. I certainly don't want to fuss with it for another week. The good news - we're almost there.

Chapter 27

Thursday,

Tchort's Forest

Southeastern Bacovia

1740 Local

Harm limped along, trying to watch his footing along the uneven ground. It was growing steadily darker, making it harder to see. He was in the middle of the line of men with Trask on his horse, at the head and Harper in the back. Harm was still reeling from the discovery of Trask not only still alive but apparently behind the attack and kidnapping. If that wasn't bad enough, the oppressive atmosphere was worse than ever. He was being buffeted by feelings of hopelessness and despair, alternating with waves of impotent rage. The extremes were making his head spin as he fought the urges to either give up entirely or recklessly attack his captors. In desperation, Harm concentrated on the physical feel of Mac held tightly against his side. He could tell she was slowly recovering although her head was down and she was breathing heavily. At random intervals, she would stiffen before relaxing again after a couple of seconds or so. Knowing how the emotional storm that was affecting him, he hated to contemplate the assault she was enduring.

One seeming bright spot was that he was managing to keep them both moving. The splints on his leg let him move while keeping the pain down to a dull roar. He wasn't having a problem supporting Mac either, even though he knew he had to be carrying over half her weight. For Harm, that was confirmation of the other bright spot. Someone - either Avis or Kate - had to be lending an unseen hand. It gave him hope, something he desperately needed. Maybe, with otherworldly help, they could beat the odds and get out of this alive.

Following behind the Americans, Matko nudged his partner, Dmitar, and grinned. Dmitar smiled back, eyeing the pair as well. The big man, Harper, had made it plain that he wouldn't object if any of them harassed their prisoners. Bending down, he scooped up a rock and flung it, hitting the man in the back, making him hunch his shoulders and flinch. Chuckling, Dmitar raised a challenging eyebrow at Matko.

Matko nodded. Not wanting to be outdone, he picked up a larger rock and threw it at the American's head. He cursed helplessly a moment later. Somehow, he'd missed his aim and watched with wide eyes as the rock sailed over the Americans and caught Bartol on the shoulder. Both Matko and Dmitar hurriedly feigned innocence as a furious Bartol spun around. Dejan, standing next to Bartol, pulled the angrily cursing man forward. They all knew the one thing that wasn't tolerated was delay. Grumbling, Bartol shook off Dejan's hand and stomped along, looking over his shoulder now and then. After a minute or so, Dmitar elbowed Matko in the side. "You throw like a girl," he muttered, grinning.

Irritated, Matko reached out to give Dmitar a shove. His foot twisted on the uneven ground just at that moment and instead of the light push he intended, Matko pitched sideways and hit Dmitar hard enough to knock him to the ground. Incensed, Dmitar scrambled up and tackled Matko. Within seconds, the two men were rolling around on the ground, trading punches and kicks. The other men quickly gathered around them, offering jeers or encouragement to each fighter.

Kate watched the turmoil in satisfaction. Circling the ring of onlookers, she saw Harper striding angrily forward. Quickly Kate moved to that side of the ring and cuffed Bartol in the back of the head. Swearing, the man turned and punched his neighbor, only to be jumped on from the other side and taken to the ground. Harper reached the men a moment later. Roaring furiously, he bent down to separate the combatants and Kate gave him a hard shove, sending him headfirst into the raging melee.

Harm watched the escalating battle in amazement. Knowing escape wasn't truly possible, he took the opportunity to rest, guiding Mac to a boulder large enough to sit on. Settling down, he pulled her against him. The bandage Dubby had wrapped around her head was stained with blood but he didn't think the gash itself was bleeding anymore.

"What's going on?"

Mac's soft voice startled him and he ducked his head a little, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. "Trask's men aren't exactly disciplined. Someone picked a fight with someone else and now it's a brawl. How are you doing?"

"Back hurts and still a bit dizzy," Mac sighed, closing her eyes again and resting her head on his shoulder. "Sorry. Not much of a rescue."

Harm gave her a careful squeeze, "Kind of hard when the deck's stacked against you. This place - " He trailed off, looking around as it grew darker. He felt Mac shiver intensely and focused on her again, "Is it bad?"

She nodded wordlessly, holding herself tightly. After a couple of seconds, she drooped against him again, panting a little, "What's wrong with your leg?"

Harm shrugged a bit, not wanting to add to the guilt she was probably feeling. It wasn't like she could do anything about it, "Banged up my knee. It's okay."

Mac raised her head slightly, her voice dry, "Wanna try again? I didn't hit my head that hard."

Harm rolled his eyes, "How about - I'm a natural for the three-legged race? The splints help. I can walk."

Mac gave an exasperated sigh, recognizing that his stubborn, protective streak was making an appearance. He didn't want to upset her so he wasn't going to give a straight answer. She didn't have the energy to argue about it and decided to change the subject. "We found Carol. I sent Pick and Tink back with her."

"Thank God," Harm felt a huge sense of relief. They fell silent and he watched with satisfaction as Harper tripped and landed in the middle of the fighting. That bastard deserved every punch and kick he got. After a few moments, Mac spoke again, "Dubby?"

"I don't know," Harm said reluctantly. "One of Trask's men said he and the guide were still breathing but I don't know how bad they were hit." He turned a little towards her, "Did you know about Trask? I thought that damned lunatic was dead."

"So did I. Daniel told me, right after I found out about you and Carol being missing. Don Eppes had called, trying to pass along a warning," Mac closed her eyes for a moment, having no trouble re-living the feelings of shock and horror. As if on cue, the pain in her head spiked. Stiffening, she clung to Harm until the worst had passed. "Sorry," she managed to get out after a moment or two.

"It's okay - ," he broke off and gave Mac a sudden warning squeeze. Trask was being led towards the fight, his face thunderous. "Uh-oh," Harm breathed softly.

A gunshot rang out a moment later and the fighting abruptly ceased. The men scrambled up and backed away from the wounded man who lay writhing and screaming on the ground. Harper climbed to his feet as well, gingerly fingering under his eye. Stepping forward, he drew his pistol and aimed it at the head of the wounded man.

"No."

Harper looked up at Trask, his eyebrows raised in silent question. The men shifted and murmured uncomfortably among themselves as the wounded man continued to weep and moan. Trask eyed them all coldly. "Leave him. The Forest will give him what he deserves - what you all deserve." He leaned forward over the horse's neck, "If this happens again, I will give Tchort two more of you. Get moving." The men stared at him silently and, for a moment, Harm wondered if Trask had overplayed his hand. He jumped as another gunshot sounded and another man fell.

Harper slowly lowered his pistol, "You heard the Reverend. Move." The men turned and shuffled back to the trail. Harm climbed hurriedly to his feet, hauling Mac up with him. He didn't want to give anyone an excuse to take out their frustrations. The relative ease getting her to her feet told him that their unseen ally was still with them.

"What happened?" Mac murmured. She was leaning heavily against him, her head spinning again from the sudden move.

"Two less to worry about," Harm muttered back, his stomach twisting a bit. He'd forgotten how cold-blooded Trask could be, even with his own men. It didn't bode well for them.

Mac gave a minute nod. She could feel a presence on her other side and rolled her eyes in that direction. A moment later, she smiled briefly, "Hey, Kate."

"Hey yourself," Kate smiled back, masking her worry and wishing Avis was here. She didn't like what was happening. Harm and Mac were under a nearly constant barrage from whatever it was that seemed practically endemic to the area. Although Harm wasn't immune, he wasn't as sensitive as Mac. She was having a harder time fending off the psychic assaults. It felt odd to Kate. It wasn't the roiling, malignant chaos that the clearing had been nor was it like the cold, calculating tendrils of evil that she'd repelled in Falls Church. This was an old and deep-seated malevolence that lurked just beneath the surface like a shark waiting to strike. At the moment, it reeked of viciously gleeful anticipation. There'd been a spike of satisfaction when the two men were shot.

A pitiful keening sound caught her attention and Kate turned to see a swirl of energy heading towards the bodies. She'd watched in fascinated horror as they suddenly swarmed the dead man like pirhanna in a feeding frenzy. The keening sound abruptly cut off. The energies moved next to the wounded man next, circling him tightly. Every now and then a tendril would shoot into him and the man would writhe and moan. There was an ominous pause and then the energies swarmed again. The man screamed and convulsed before collapsing lifelessly. Another keening sound ended suddenly.

Afterwards, the energy swirled up and away in a macabre dance that left Kate shuddering in revulsion at what she'd seen. She blinked in surprise when she realized Mac was mirroring her reactions. That had never happened before. Even as she was pondering this, the energies suddenly coalesced and dove at Harm and Mac with frightening speed. Kate reacted instantly, flinging herself in between. She could feel Mac's own battered defenses forming behind her. Fending off the attack, Kate turned back to find Harm struggling to hold up his sagging wife. At the same time she could see Harper moving towards them, a malignant smile on his face. Knowing that getting Mac moving again wasn't likely to stop the big man, Kate shot to the head of the line and slapped the rump of Trask's horse. With a startled squeal, the horse leaped in the air and bolted forward, yanking the guide off his feet and dragging him along when he refused to let go of the lead. Spinning around, Kate watched Harper break into a run after Trask, bypassing Harm and Mac altogether.

Harm tensed as Harper pounded by him and then sighed in relief as Mac's weight across his shoulders suddenly eased. "Thanks, Kate," he whispered, while eyeing the men around them. They were standing sullenly in clumps, watching as Harper chased after the spooked horse. No one made any move to help, nor did they take the opportunity to try leaving on their own. Harm decided there wasn't much hope in attempting to turn anyone. It was obvious that Trask and Harper had them cowed.

"What happened?"

Harm turned his head back towards Mac, keeping his voice down, "You okay?"

"Getting there." She nodded carefully, blinking a bit before exhaling softly, "Need to get out of this place."

"I hear you," Harm replied. He could just see Trask and his mount through a break in the rocks. The horse had finally come to a halt about a hundred yards away. The man who'd been hanging on to the lead rope was sitting, holding his head. Harm felt a little bit of sympathy. Being dragged along this broken, rocky ground had to be painful. Now had that been Harper... Harm shook his head, not liking where his thoughts were going. He had a feeling that negative emotions like anger and hatred attracted the wrong sort of attention. He and Mac were getting enough of that already. It was another ten minutes before they got moving again. By then, Mac had recovered enough to move on her own. Harm kept her arm across his shoulders just in case.

Their progress was slower than before. Trask's men seemed to have developed an acute case of clumsiness. One or another would trip or stumble, often into someone else. Harm suspected Kate was behind it. If she was trying to rattle them, her plan was succeeding. Already unhappy with Trask and Harper, they were becoming increasingly nervous and distracted. They were also learning to leave the Americans alone. One man had stepped in and aimed a kick at Harm's bad leg only to slip in mid-swing and upend himself. Much like Mac had done, his head hit rocks when he landed, opening up a gash on the back of his head and knocking himself silly. Harper, nursing a black eye and already angry, had been livid and forced the men to keep going, leaving the unconscious man behind. Now there were three less to worry about.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Tchort's Forest

Southeastern Bacovia

1725 Local

Josef groaned and blinked. Rubbing his forehead, he raised himself up on his elbows and froze. He stared at the glowing apparition of a woman standing nearby and crossed himself, "Am I dead?"

The woman glided forward, smiling, "No, Josef. Far from it."

He pulled himself into a sitting position and gingerly touched his scalp. Josef distinctly remembered a hard shove just before getting hit in the head. Wincing as he felt the shallow furrow, he was relieved to find little blood. Aside from a headache and a few other bumps and bruises, he seemed to be fine, "What has happened? Who are you?"

"I am a friend," She turned a little, gesturing, "Gunnery Sergeant Walters needs your help."

Josef looked over and saw the big man sprawled nearby. Not quite trusting his balance, he crawled over and carefully rolled Dubby over on his back. His eyes widened at the sight of blood soaking the Gunnery Sergeant's side. He needed to stop the bleeding. Josef rocked back on his heels, looking around the clearing. He spotted the Sergeant's backpack nearby and quickly retrieved it. Pulling out the first aid kit, he grabbed the scissors, carefully cutting away the sodden area of shirt and got to work. Seventy-two years of living in a hard and oft-times unforgiving environment had made him a virtual jack of all trades. There was very little he hadn't seen or dealt with - including bullet wounds.

Fifteen minutes later, he finished tying off the bandages and looked up at the woman, dipping his head respectfully, "He'll live, your Ladyship." Josef nervously smoothed his mustache, not wanting to presume too much, "If you could move him away from this place, it would be best." He wasn't sure what or who he was dealing with and the woman wasn't offering any explanations. She wasn't aligned with evil - he could tell that much.

Avis shook her head, "I'm afraid that sort of thing is beyond my capabilities. However - ," She smiled a moment later and raised a hand, pointing to the side, "Sasha and Misha have returned."

Josef turned and smiled at the sight of his two horses standing at the edge of the clearing. He climbed to his feet and started towards them only to stop when the woman said, 'No.' Dismayed, he turned back towards her with a questioning look.

"Let them come to you," she told him.

"I don't understand," Josef frowned, looking between her and his horses. His expression lightened a bit as the two animals began walking towards him.

Avis raised an eyebrow at him, "You, Josef Tarchevsky, know what lies here in Tchort's Forest. Blood has been spilled and violence done. My protection is not limitless. You must stay near the Gunnery Sergeant."

Josef blinked, finally realizing that he wasn't feeling the usual tension and unease that came with the Forest. It was a welcome respite. He bowed towards her, "Thank you, your Ladyship." The horses came within reach a few minutes later and Josef moved quickly, patting them as he checked for any sort of injuries. Relieved to find them sound, Josef turned and frowned as he considered the next difficulty. There was no way he could lift the big American onto Misha. He watched as the woman knelt next to the Gunnery Sergeant and touched his forehead. His eyebrows rose when the man's eyes slowly opened. He knelt down on the man's other side, "Can you sit?"

Josef hoped that was what he said as the American stared blankly at him. His English was very rusty. Josef gestured with his hands, "Up?" That seemed to work as the Gunnery Sergeant nodded slowly and started to push himself up. Josef grabbed hold of the man's jacket and pulled as well.

Dubby groaned, holding his side after getting himself in a sitting position. He hurt like hell but at least he was still breathing. A slow look around the clearing showed that it was just him, the guide and the horses. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Trask must have shown up - and now he had both the Colonel and the Commander. He looked at the guide, "We need to go after the Rabbs." The old man gave him a blank look. Dubby sighed and then grimaced as he started to push himself up, "Go. Now." That seemed to work. The guide grabbed his arm and helped lift. The old man was surprisingly strong.

He continued to hold onto an arm once Dubby regained his feet. The Gunny was grateful for the support. He wasn't feeling particularly steady and his side felt like it was on fire. He looked down at the smaller man and decided introductions were probably in order. He pointed to himself, "Rudy Walters."

Josef nodded as the American gave his name. He patted himself on the chest with his free hand, "Josef Tarchevsky." On a whim, he pointed to the horses, "Misha. Sasha." He gazed at Avis next and frowned a little, "I don't know your name."

Avis shook her head, "It does not matter. The Gunnery Sergeant can't hear or see me."

Josef looked at her in surprise, "But I can?"

"It is part of your lineage. Gavrill's blood is strong within you, and runs nearly true within Leonid. He will be a good man."

Josef couldn't help crossing himself even as he swelled with pride, "God willing - he is a good boy."

Dubby watched the old man in concern. After introducing himself, he'd started speaking in Russian to thin air. Had the trauma of a gun battle combined with an ill-timed earthquake affected his mind? He cleared his throat, "Sir? Mr. Tarchevsky? Are you all right?"

Flushing, Josef turned back to the American. If the man couldn't see their benefactress, then he probably thought Josef was going senile or crazy. Whuffling through his mustache, Josef pointed towards the horses, "We go." He eyed the big man and said firmly, "Josef."

Walters tipped his head in acknowledgement, repeating, "Josef." He pointed to himself again, "Dubby."

Josef nodded, tugging on the man's arm, "Yes. Dubby. Go." It took a little maneuvering but he finally got the Gunny on Misha. It was a toss-up on who looked less pleased, the American or the horse. Grabbing the backpack, Josef also picked up Dubby's rifle, slinging both over his shoulder. Taking Sasha's lead, he paused for a moment. While certain help lay back in the direction of his home, the real priority was leaving the Forest quickly. The Lady had been correct about the consequences of violence within its confines. It was too dangerous to stay any longer than necessary. That meant going forward. He would just have to hope that the Romanians didn't become difficult. While he'd been through the Pass and the Forest numerous times in his life, he could count the times he actually crossed the border on one hand. With a muttered prayer to his name Saint, Josef turned to the right, following the path Trask had taken.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Trail to the Bymer Pass

Romania

1750 Local

Sokol stood with his hands on his hips and watched as Edgerton walked back down the trail. In front of him were two dejected-looking men with their hands on their heads. Ian smiled at the big man as he got close enough to be heard, "Last two."

"Of Trask's men," Sokol grunted. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "Take a look behind us."

Edgerton frowned a little, shoving the men towards the little group he'd been collecting as they moved towards the border with Bacovia. Whoever had placed them had a good grasp of tactics. Their positions had been in areas that gave a good view of the terrain while also being easy to defend. Ideally, they would have been able to warn the main group while easily delaying a rescue column. The choice of personnel, however, had left a lot to be desired. Of course, to be fair, there were very few people who could match Ian's skill at moving unseen in rough country. He glanced at Sokol as he moved past to look down the trail, "What is it?"

"Who is it," Sokol corrected, turning with him. They stood on a small outlook, "My guess is the Romanian military. Margarete must have contacted them. I didn't think they'd move this fast."

"Then they're on our side," Edgerton shrugged. "We're all after the same thing."

Sokol scrubbed a hand over his head, "Maybe. I don't think the Romanians are going to be too pleased to see me. We need to get going. They'll have to stop at the border and I'd rather be on the Bacovian side when they do."

Edgerton glanced at him, "I can move faster by myself."

Sokol scowled, "So? We don't know where they are yet." He nodded his head towards their prisoners, "Hell, we know about as much as those clowns and that's not saying much. They're dumb enough to get run over by a parked car."

Edgerton folded his arms, looking irritated, "What? You don't think I can find Trask and his little band of merry men? They're leaving a trail a blind man could follow."

"And then what? There's eight or nine of them - and that's not including the original kidnappers. You really think you can take on that many without getting the hostages killed?" Sokol stared at the FBI sniper. Edgerton combined arrogance and bluntness in a way that begged for an ass-whipping but this was the first time Sokol had heard him suggest something so foolhardy.

Ian stared back, ready to argue and then stopped, frowning a little before finally shaking his head. What the hell was he thinking? "Damn, you're right. That's a few too many to deal with when there are hostages." He rubbed the side of his jaw, "But I think we need to hurry - I'm getting a bad feeling about all this."

Sokol raised an eyebrow, "Now? Now, you're getting a bad feeling?"

Edgerton rolled his eyes, "Seriously, man. We need to move faster." He glanced at the prisoners for a few seconds and then smiled, "How would you feel about leaving the Romanians a present?"

Sokol grinned back, "Works for me."

Fifteen minutes later, Ian, Sokol and his man, Fyodr, shouldered their backpacks and jogged up the trail. They left Trask's men, bound and gagged, in the charge of their Romanian guide. Sokol wasn't at all surprised that the guide seemed inordinately happy to be left behind.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Border of Tchort's Forest

Southeastern Bacovia

1830 Local

There was a feeling of general relief among the men when they reached their campsite. Harm and Mac looked around the area before glancing at each other, wondering uncomfortably what was coming next. Since leaving the Forest, Mac had been able to move on her own. She'd kept a hand wrapped around Harm's arm anyway just for the comfort of his touch. A sudden, hard shove sent Harm sprawling, dragging Mac down with him. Harper stood over them, his expression hard. Although it looked like he was itching to do more, he simply stood there glaring at them. Finally, he reached out and grabbed one of the men, "Watch them. If they move, shoot the man." He glanced back at the JAG officers again, "Just make sure you don't kill him."

"Good advice."

Harm and Mac's heads swiveled around to see Trask still on his horse, behind them. He smiled at them, his eyes hard, "Midnight, Mr. Rabb, the witching hour. An apropos time for you to meet your fate." He looked over to Harper, "Arrange for my dinner, please. I'm hungry." Trask gestured for the guide to lead him back to his tent.

Harper watched Trask leave before focusing on Harm and Mac again with an unpleasant smile, "I'll see you two before that. Remember what I told you before, Rabb." Turning around, he began shouting orders at the men.

Mac shivered a little, helping Harm sit up. She nestled closer to his side, eyeing him worriedly, "What was that about?"

"Nothing good," Harm muttered, wincing a little as he repositioned his leg. He glanced over at Mac, keeping his voice down, "Is Kate here?"

"Yes," Kate answered from her position behind them. She couldn't help being worried. She'd done what she could to slow things down and even the odds a little but, in her opinion, it wasn't enough. As Mac had pointed out before, she couldn't stop bullets and there were too many men. The good news was that Avis was on her way. If Trask wasn't lying and nothing untoward happened before midnight, she would arrive in time. Hopefully, between the two of them, something could be done.

Mac nodded in answer to Harm's question. She hadn't been able to see Kate since leaving the Forest but she could hear her. According to Kate, Avis was with Dubby, protecting him from being taken before his time. It helped a little to know that he would survive. Just having Kate around was some comfort although Mac still didn't see how she and Harm were going to come out of this alive. Her one hope was the Bacovian military but it was a real possibility that they would stop once they had Carol. They might be concerned about catching and punishing the people behind the kidnapping but the fate of two Americans was probably low on their list of priorities.

Harm watched the expressions chase across Mac's face. Even in the worst situations, she was beautiful. He could tell she was losing hope and although their chances were slim, he hated seeing her that way. Harm nudged her shoulder with his own. He leaned his head towards her, keeping his voice down, "Hey c'mon, it's Butch and Sundance, right?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, the barest hint of a smile showing, "I thought it was Batman and Robin."

"I don't look good in tights," Harm smiled back. He watched the amusement grow on her face and gave her a mock-scowl, "Don't go there, Marine."

She managed a grin before her face fell and she leaned her head on his shoulder, "Oh, Harm, I'm so sorry."

"For what? Not being able to see into the future?" Harm leaned his cheek against the top of her head. "None of this is your fault. You did what you could - and that's more than anyone else has managed. I'm sorry for being selfish." She raised her head up and gave him a quizzical look. Harm ducked his head a bit, not quite looking her in the eye, "As much as I hate that you're here in the middle of this, I'm glad that you're here with me now. Does that make any sense?"

"Lots," Mac leaned over and kissed the side of his face before nestling her head on his shoulder again, "Butch and Sundance."


	28. Chapter 28

I am so sorry for making everyone wait so long for this chapter. I do the majority of my writing on the weekends and these last two have been pretty busy. If it's any consolation, the chapter's pretty long. I've been over it numerous times, trying to figure out ways to condense and after a while, my eyes begin to cross. Hopefully, when all of you read it, you won't suffer the same fate.

This story is just about over - I'm thinking maybe two more chapters to wrap everything up. There's still a couple of loose ends to deal with and I'm assuming everyone would like to know what happens in the aftermath. If not, say so in any reviews you feel like posting and if the 'nays' are in the majority, I'll skip that part. Thanks again for your patience. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 28

Thursday,

Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1730 Local

Anatoli rounded the bend and slowed down, frowning. Rocks were blocking the entrance to a wider area of the trail. He glanced at the slope above, perplexed. This wasn't an unstable area and although the rocks looked like they'd rolled down, the ground above didn't appear damaged like it should. He stumbled forward a moment later when a rifle muzzle hit him in the back.

"Stop stalling," Oleg ordered, scowling. "They're just rocks, climb over." He was beginning to wonder if he even needed a guide, much less one that seemed to jump at every shadow. The trail wasn't that hard to follow and he'd yet to see anything to justify its reputation for danger and death. Perhaps the stories were just that - stories, designed to provide some sort of livelihood for the family that lived next to the trailhead.

Pick crouched a little lower behind one of the larger boulders near the trail and looked over to Tink's position. Catching the big man's attention, he pointed to the first man picking his way over the rocks and nodded. It looked like their assumption that Leonid's father, Anatoli, would be leading was correct. They hadn't had much time to plan but neither wanted the boy's father to become collateral damage if they could help it. Pick's role in the ambush would be the most dangerous. He would be responsible for separating Anatoli from the rest of the group while demanding their surrender. It also meant he would exposed for a crucial few seconds if the men decided to fight.

Sliding around to the far side, Pick waited. Tink had done a good job placing the rocks. The line of men spread out as they picked their way through. There were five of them besides Leonid's dad. One of them appeared injured, he was on a horse at the back of the line. Anatoli was leading the packhorse at the head. Pick was counting on the bulk of the horse to help shield him from view until the last possible second.

Anatoli threaded his way through the rocks, looking for the best path for his horse. When he drew level with several large rocks, Mijo threw his head up and snorted. Tensing, Anatoli turned to see what was disturbing the old gelding. The sight of a man in black with a lethal-looking rifle had him stumbling backwards with a startled yelp.

Pick cursed under his breath. Murphy's Law had just trumped their plan. He hadn't taken into account that the horse might spook first. Taking a second to steel himself, he popped up from behind boulder, leveling his rifle at the remaining men. A split-second later, he was ducking for cover as a barrage of shots came his way.

Oleg jerked his head up from watching his feet when the guide let out a fear-pitched cry. Snapping a warning over his shoulder to the rest of his men, Oleg brought his rifle up. At nearly the same time, a man with a rifle appeared from behind a large boulder. Oleg opened fire immediately, his men joining in at the same time. The man ducked just as more gunfire erupted. Beside Oleg, Jovan gave a cry and fell. Ilija went down next and Oleg scrambled for cover, firing as he went. Filip had pulled Danijel off the horse and taken cover near the entrance of clearing. Both were returning fire.

Tink ducked as a slug hit and skipped along the surface of the boulder. Although the odds were a little better now, a prolonged firefight was the last thing he and Pick needed. Their supply of ammunition wasn't limitless. He moved to the side of boulder. Two of the men were hunkered down near the entrance and beginning to lay down an increasing amount of fire. He needed to take them out as quickly as possible. Tink took a breath and leaned around the side, squeezing off a round. He ducked back at the answering gunfire and tried not to worry. He hadn't heard anything from Pick since the shooting started.

He'd just fired off a couple more rounds when he finally heard Pick start shooting. Smiling in relief, he swung around the side of the boulder again. The men were concentrating on Pick and Tink managed to take another one down. Now it was two against two. A minute later, their opponents were down to one. He held on for a little bit longer before finally throwing his weapon out and putting his hands in the air. Tink rose cautiously, motioning for the man to come forward. Once the man was out in the open, Tink threw a quick look over towards Pick and felt a gut-twisting shock. Anatoli had stood up from behind the boulder with Pick's rifle in his hands.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Outskirts of Tchort's Forest

Southeastern Bacovia

1905 Local

Harm and Mac sat quietly together as the men went about preparing a meal and eating. It was hard to watch and worse smelling the aromas, but no one offered them anything either to eat or drink. Despite that, they were both feeling better. Leaving the Forest had lifted an oppressive weight. After the men had finished, several of them began adding more wood to the fires, adding extra light to the camp. The two JAG officers exchanged worried looks, suspecting that something unpleasant was being planned despite Trask's words about waiting until midnight.

Nothing happened and after a little while, Harm frowned, leaning towards Mac, "What was that all about?" Mac shook her head tensely, watching the men slowly gather. She'd seen that predatory look before. Another minute and half passed and their attention was drawn to the tent area to their right. They were both shocked to see Trask being rolled forward in a wheelchair.

He smiled at them, focusing on Harm and gesturing towards the chair, "Surprised at my mode of travel? You shouldn't be - this is because of you." He made a show of looking at his watch, "And in - three hours and forty-two minutes, I will express my appreciation. In the meantime, Mr. Harper?" Trask waited for the big man to step forward, "Perhaps a little entertainment to while away the time?"

Harper grinned, "Yes sir, I think something can be arranged." He turned to see Harm struggling to his feet with Mac's help and strolled towards them spreading his hands, "Why, Mr. Rabb, don't get up on my account." He circled, gradually closing the distance with the wary couple. Harm and Mac started to back up only to collide with a line of men. Two of them stepped in and shoved the JAG officers forward. Harper lunged at the same time, hitting Harm with his shoulder and knocking him down while roughly grabbing Mac from behind.

His satisfied smirk only lasted a couple of seconds as Mac slammed her heel down on the instep of his foot. He loosened his hold with an agonized yelp and Mac spun in his grasp, hammering her elbow into his solar plexus. Gasping from the pain as well as the sudden expulsion of air, Harper folded over. At the same time, Mac crouched, tucking herself tightly under his shoulder while grabbing his arm. Yanking forward as she snapped her legs straight sent Harper sailing over her head to land heavily on his side. Mac held on to his arm through the throw. Sliding her grip to his wrist, she pulled back and pivoted, forcing him onto to his stomach. Planting a foot on the back of his neck, she kept the arm extended and rotated it into a painful wrist-lock. All told, it took less than a minute. There was a shocked silence in the camp punctuated only by Harper's wheezing groans.

After a few seconds, Trask began to chuckle. It grew until he was laughing uproariously, pointing a shaking finger at Harper as tears ran down his face. The men shifted nervously, looking at each other uncertainly. One or two chanced a small smile as the Reverend continued to laugh. Mac shot a bewildered look at Harm, who had managed to regain his feet. He shrugged, watching Trask closely as he limped towards her. Mac felt Harper attempt to shift and increased the pressure on the wrist-lock with a sharp yank. Harper yelped in pain and froze again, gasping.

"Mac!"

Harm's frantic warning had her head snapping up. Eyes wide, she saw a still-chuckling Trask point a pistol at her and fire. Mac threw herself backwards as a force slammed into her chest, sending her sprawling to the ground. Breathless from the impact, Mac squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to hit. Instead, she heard Kate's voice in her ear.

"Dammit, MacKenzie, move!"

Her eyes flew open in time to see a foot coming right at her face. Harper lost his balance at the last moment. His heel slammed into the ground inches from her head as he awkwardly straddled her. Mac shot up, ramming a fist into his crotch and rolling to her feet. She shoved the wheezing man to the ground and spun around in time to see two men tackle Harm. His pain-filled groan was cut off as he hit the ground and a third man landed on top of him. Before she could move to help him, a body slammed into her from the side and for a moment, Mac saw stars as she hit the ground. Instinctively, she swung an elbow and heard a pained grunt as she connected with something solid. Panting, she scrambled away on all fours only to be hit with a dizzying wave of weakness. Fighting it, she managed to get to her knees and froze. Trask was in front of her and behind him was the hideous black shape that had been plaguing her visions. Horrified, she could only stare as it grew larger. A roaring sound filled her ears and suddenly she was gasping for air as black spots danced in front of her eyes. Mac barely felt the hands grabbing her from either side and pinioning her arms behind her.

The dizziness grew worse as she was hauled to her feet. A stinging slap followed immediately by a second actually helped her focus and she blinked as Harper's angry face swam into view. "You bitch," he snarled, and drove his fist into her mid-section, doubling her over and sending her back to the brink of unconsciousness.

"Enough, Mr. Harper," Trask's amused voice broke in. "Don't be petty."

Kate stood helplessly to the side unable to do more than watch. She'd seen the Darkness begin to manifest behind Trask right after he'd shot at Mac and thrown herself in between. It had barely paid any attention to her at all but she'd experienced a sudden and chilling drain of energy that had come close to removing her from this plane of reality altogether. In desperation, she'd sent out a frantic cry for help.

Still smiling, Trask turned and motioned to the men pinning Harm to the ground, "Don't be rude, gentlemen. Help the Commander up and bring him here. He can't see anything from down there."

The two men glanced uncertainly at each other before struggling upright, keeping a firm grip on Harm. Once he was up, Harm immediately looked for Mac. Seeing her bent over with Harper in front told him what had just happened and he reacted in rage. Jerking an arm free, he punched the man holding his other side, knocking him down. The first man grabbed for him and Harm brought his elbow straight back. It caught the man in the jaw and flattened him as well. Harm took one limping stride forward and froze. Harper had his pistol out, the muzzle resting lightly on Mac's back.

"One more step, Rabb, and I'll blow her spine out. If she's lucky, the shock will kill her right away," Harper smirked.

Not daring to move, Harm stayed where he was. He was pounced on once again. This time when they grabbed his arms, they wrenched one painfully up behind his back. Eyes watering, Harm gritted his teeth and stared defiantly from Harper to Trask.

"Impressive, Commander, and a waste of effort," Trask waved a hand, settling back. "Mr. Harper?"

Nodding, Harper pulled the pistol away. He gestured for the men holding Mac to straighten her up. Once again, he slapped her back to consciousness. Mindful of what she'd done earlier, Harper moved back and waited for her eyes to blink open. He scowled when she ignored him entirely to focus on Trask. Stepping forward, he reached out and ripped open her jacket. Mac jerked back and the men holding her tightened their grip. Harm tensed as well, wincing a moment later, when the men holding him yanked his arm up higher.

Harper paused, making sure Harm was immobilized, before pulling a jackknife out of his pocket and slowly opening it. He put the blade against Mac's cheek, enjoying himself as she went still. Slowly he trailed it down her neck and slid the point between the pieces of turtleneck Dubby had cut, flicking a corner away and tracing the dressing on her shoulder. Bringing it back along her neck, he stopped the tip under her chin and lifted the point, forcing her head up. Harper smiled as she rolled an eye at him, not daring to move. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the corner of her shirt, using the knife to slash the material down to her waist. Mac started to react and Harper quickly replaced the blade tip against her neck, stopping her. Watching her carefully, he reached down with one hand and undid her belt, pulling it off. Stepping out of reach, he tossed it to one of the men holding Mac, "Tie her hands and put her on her knees." He watched as they wrestled the belt over her wrists and forced her down. Harper glanced over his shoulder to see Harm struggling to get free and smiled, "Remember what I told you before, Rabb? Watch closely."

"Mr. Harper."

Stopping in frustration, Harper schooled his features and turned slowly back towards Trask, "Sir?"

"We should be democratic about this. There's plenty of time." Trask looked at the men and pointed at one, "You. You may go first."

Matko's eyes widened in surprise as he looked from Trask to Mac to Trask again. A slow grin broke out as the other men began whistling and catcalling. Affecting a bit of a swagger, he walked towards Mac and jumped in fright when Harm lunged at him furiously. Matko flushed in embarrassed annoyance as the rest of the group began to laugh and jeer. After receiving an approving nod from Harper, he waited until the two men regained control of the JAG officer. Stepping in quickly, he hit Harm in the ribs and followed it with a hard blow to the side of his head. Smiling as Harm staggered, he turned and continuing sauntering towards Mac. Stopping in front of her, Matko encouraged his audience into more raucous noise and made a show of reaching down to unzip his pants.

Breathing heavily, Mac watched the man approach while her captors held her in place, their hands digging painfully into her shoulders. She winced when he punched Harm and then her anger flared. Damn coward. In her peripheral vision, she saw the black shape behind Trask expand even more. A moment later, another wave of weakness hit. It felt like her bones had turned to jelly and she started to collapse. The men restraining her switched to holding her upright. The man stopped in front of her, and after egging the other men on, reached down to unzip. A moment later, he collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut, landing less than a foot from Mac. Shocked, she blinked and stared at the small round hole in his head. The men let her go and she went down, feeling even weaker than she had before. Ignoring the bedlam as all hell broke loose, Mac decided this must be what dying felt like.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Trail to the Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1945 Local

"Hold up."

"What?" Edgerton stopped and turned around, scowling a little. It was dark now and the terrain was growing rougher, forcing them to slow down. Ian kept pushing the pace as fast as he dared, driven by the feeling that time was running out. While he wasn't a believer in the supernatural, he did trust his own instincts and they were telling him to get a move on.

"Do you have any idea if we're going the right way anymore? I can't see a damn thing," Sokol was bent over a little, breathing heavily. It was a small consolation that Fyodr, who was a good ten years younger, was breathing just as hard. They'd been half-jogging, half-walking up a steady incline for the last hour. It was beyond him how Edgerton could be following anything in the darkness.

"We are," Edgerton answered shortly. He eyed the two Russians, "If you need a break, take one. I can go on ahead."

"No one said anything about taking a break," Sokol growled. "I just don't want to miss Trask in the dark. We need to stop him."

"Then we need to keep moving," Edgerton snapped.

"Where?" Sokol glared at the agent.

"For godsakes, use something besides your eyes! Can't you smell it?" Ian turned around and resumed his jog up the trail.

Sokol and Fyodr stared at each other. "Wood smoke," Sokol said finally, "Come on." They hurried to catch up to the FBI agent. Fifteen minutes later, they crouched on a small ridge and looked down into the camp. Sokol peered through his binoculars and swore quietly. Fyodr looked at him questioningly.

Ian pulled his eye away from his scope, frowning, "I don't know how the hell it happened but that's Colonel MacKenzie down there with Rabb, not Carol Dzurick."

"I don't care how it happened, we need to get them out of there," Sokol looked over at Ian. "I counted eight men down there, none of them Trask. He must be in one of the tents. How do you want to do this?"

Ian smiled grimly, "I'm good here. Why don't you two swing over to the right? We can catch them in a cross-fire."

"Sounds good," Sokol glanced down the slope. "Give us about fifteen minutes." They would have to pick their way in the dark and the terrain was rough. Sokol wanted to get as close as possible without alerting the camp or breaking his neck.

Checking his watch, Ian nodded as they disappeared down the hillside before resuming his surveillance of the camp. He still didn't know what angle the KGB agent was pursuing. The man had gone to a tremendous amount of trouble, not to mention personal risk, to help rescue Rabb. He'd been evasive as hell when Ian had pressed him for reasons. It was hard to believe someone like Sokol would do all this out of friendship. Ian frowned thoughtfully, the man hadn't seemed at all surprised to find MacKenzie being held with Rabb, either. The agent snorted silently a moment later. Truth to tell, when it came to those two, he really wasn't that surprised either. The big question was, what had happened to Carol Dzurick?

Movement in the camp caught his attention and Ian focused intently, automatically slipping into sniper mode. His eyebrows rose when he saw Trask being rolled out in a wheelchair. Nothing that Eppes and his team had uncovered had suggested that the man had been crippled. Ian tensed as the scene below him began to turn ugly, alternating his sights between Trask and the big man who appeared to be threatening the JAG officers. Neither was clear enough for a shot as the remaining men milled about. He watched in amazement when MacKenzie took the man down before frowning slightly. As satisfying as that must have been, they were still prisoners. The Colonel would pay a price for what she'd done.

The gunshot startled him. At first, he thought MacKenzie had been hit but she was up too quickly to have been shot. He revised that opinion a minute later when she stumbled to her knees. Two men grabbed her, holding her upright between them. In the meantime, Rabb was contributing to the chaos despite a bad leg. It took three men to take him down. Ian swore quietly to himself when the big man hit the Colonel hard enough to leave her sagging in the grip of her captors. He focused on the man's head. The next moment he blew out a frustrated breath as the men holding Rabb dragged him forward and blocked his shot. Ian could only watch as the big man pulled out a knife and ripped open MacKenzie's shirt. It was payback time and he didn't have an open shot.

A minute later, the tableau shifted again as they tied her hands and forced MacKenzie to her knees. The big man moved back, waiting for them to finish, finally placing himself in the kill zone. Sighting in, Ian's finger curled slowly around the trigger. He released it a second later when the man turned to Trask and stepped to the side. Scowling, Ian tried to figure out what the hell was going on. He got his answer as one of the other men stepped forward. When man stopped in front of MacKenzie and his hands went to the front of his pants, Ian pulled the trigger.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Outskirts of Tchort's Forest

Southeastern Bacovia

2005 Local

With Josef's help, Dubby climbed a small hillock. After leaving the Forest, they'd been drawn by the glow of campfires. They knew it had to be Trask. Josef had been surprised that they'd made camp so close to the Forest but Dubby wasn't. The man was a megalomaniac. He'd easily see himself on par with Satan and see no reason to move further away. Whatever the reason, it worked in their favor. As they approached the summit, Dubby gestured for Josef to lower them. Stifling a groan, Dubby crawled forward as quietly as possible with Josef right beside him. If the light and general noise was any indication, they would be fairly close to the camp when they reached the top of the hill.

A few minutes later, they made it to the crown. It was wider and flatter than Dubby had expected, covered with rocks and brush. He still couldn't see into the camp and muttered a quiet, 'Damn.' Josef echoed him in Russian, equally softly and Dubby grinned. They were getting better at communicating with each other. The old man was sharp as a tack and quick to infer what was needed from words and gestures. In turn, Dubby was learning Russian words and phrases. Cautiously, they moved forward until they finally reached the far side. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his side, Dubby pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning against a large rock. Josef reached out and carefully pulled away the brush that was blocking their view.

It didn't take long to locate the Colonel and Commander. They were sitting together, practically in the middle of the camp. No one was specifically guarding them. There was no need. They were surrounded by Trask's men who looked like they were finishing up their dinner. He didn't see Trask. Dubby turned his head and nodded to Josef. The old man unslung Dubby's rifle and handed it over. He pulled out the extra ammo clips next and handed them over as well. Dubby silently prepped the weapon and settled himself. Activity in the camp suddenly increased as some of the men built the fires up higher. Dubby froze for a second as their position was bathed in light. If anyone was looking, they'd see the firelight reflecting off the rifle barrel and scope. He eased the rifle back out of sight. Swearing a little, Dubby struggled to remove his jacket. Josef reached over and helped, looking a little confused. His expression cleared a minute later when Dubby wrapped the jacket around the rifle barrel. When the Gunny repositioned the rifle, Josef reached forward and draped a sleeve across the scope.

A sudden commotion drew both their attention back to the camp. Dismayed, Dubby could only watch as events unfolded. He didn't dare shoot yet, afraid he'd hit Sarah or Harm as the melee surged back and forth. His heart jumped to his throat when he heard the gunshot and saw Sarah go down. His relief when she got up was short-lived when she began to collapse again like she'd done back in the Forest. As things grew uglier, he peered through his scope, looking for targets. He wanted Trask but there were too many bodies in between for a clear shot. At best, he could start taking the men down. He watched one step towards Sarah, pausing to punch the Commander before stopping in front of her. Dubby swore again as he sighted in. His view was partially blocked, there was a fifty-fifty chance he'd miss. It was better than nothing and he was about to squeeze the trigger when a single gunshot rang out and the man collapsed.

In the shocked moments that followed, Dubby opened fire on the rest of the men, intent on taking as many down as possible. The scene grew ever more chaotic as the men began scrambling for cover and returning fire. They were shooting in all directions, clearly unsure of where their opponents were. Dubby ducked and winced as a few slugs whistled past his position. He could hear gunfire from other directions now. The cavalry, whoever the hell they were, had arrived.

o o o o o

Kate watched in horror as the Darkness sent out a narrow thread of black and hit Mac in the chest, taking her down on all fours. This wasn't supposed to be possible. The thread stayed connected as Harper once again attacked Mac, finally ripping open her shirt. Again, Kate tried to intervene and experienced another debilitating drain of energy. When they forced Mac to her knees, Kate saw the thread grow thicker as Mac sagged weakly. The men on either side held her upright as a third man stepped in front. A moment later, a gunshot sounded and he dropped lifelessly to the ground. His life-force rose out of the body, dissipating with a wail. The men holding Mac let go as they grabbed for their weapons and she collapsed to the ground. The Darkness swelled and Kate watched the thread to Mac grow as thick as her arm.

Kate paid no attention to the gunfire that erupted from all sides. There was tingling feeling in the air that was growing in intensity. Suddenly, a blindingly white light exploded into the clearing. In its center stood Avis, white flames flickering around her like the aurora borealis. The black cable attached to Mac abruptly snapped and Kate felt a surge of energy at the same time. She hurried to Mac's side, keeping an eye on the confrontation. The Darkness retreated at first before gathering itself. It expanded ferociously, filling half the sky and launched itself at Avis like a giant tidal wave. Kate ducked and threw herself over Mac as dark and light met in a thunderous explosion.

Kate slowly lifted her head, almost afraid of what she might see. The energy released in the explosion had been terrifying. She blinked a moment later. Avis was standing there, looking like she always did, and the Darkness was gone.

"Wow."

Kate glanced down in surprise at Mac, "You saw that?"

"Hard to miss," Mac mumbled blearily. She closed her eyes, "Tired."

Kate glanced around the camp where the gun battle was still raging. She needed to get to Harm and playing dead wasn't a bad strategy, "Go ahead and rest. Avis and I will keep an eye out for you."

Even as she spoke, Avis appeared beside them, nodding for Kate to go. WIth one more look at Mac, Kate hurried off. Avis noted that the former NCIS and Secret Service agent plowed through any of Trask's men that were in her path. She was definitely in a mood. Avis seated herself gracefully next to Mac and studied her friend carefully. Finally, she reached out and rested her fingers lightly on Mac's forehead. The brunette shifted with a slight moan before settling deeper into sleep.

o o o o o

Harm blinked and carefully shook his head, trying to rid himself of the cobwebs. His ears were still ringing from the blow he'd taken. Suddenly recalling what had happened, his head snapped up as he looked for Mac. The man was standing in front of her, trading jeers with the men watching him. When his hands began to reach down the front of his pants, Harm started to struggle frantically. His efforts ended abruptly when the man holding his arm behind his back jerked it higher and the other man drove a fist up under his ribs. Gasping, Harm nearly missed the first rifle shot. That was followed by a second of silent shock. It ended when gunfire hit the camp from another direction. Beginning to panic, the men holding Harm pivoted towards this latest threat, dragging the JAG officer with them. Harm stumbled, unable to keep up with the rapid move. Moments later, he was dragged to the ground as one of the men holding him jerked backwards and fell. The second man only had a moment to gape before he, too, went down.

Harm stayed where he was, hugging the ground as gunfire poured into the camp from a third direction. His shoulder ached from having his arm wrenched behind him and he was feeling woozy. Either the punch he'd taken earlier had been harder than he thought or he must have hit something when he landed on the ground. He closed his eyes wearily.

Kate reached Harm soon after. Kneeling down, she touched the side of his head and was rewarded with a soft groan. Figuring everything he'd gone through had just caught up with him, Kate didn't try to rouse him. Like Mac, playing dead, even if it was inadvertent, was the safest thing to do. Kate stood up. Trask's men weren't giving up but they were slowly being overwhelmed. In her estimate, it wouldn't be long. She would keep watch and make sure no one decided to take potshots at the downed JAG officer.

o o o o o

Sprawled on the ground, Harper groaned in pain, gripping the wound to his leg tightly with one hand. His other arm was lying uselessly at his side. The slug that had hit him had shattered the bone. Trask was on his back on the ground about a dozen feet away. In the chaos, his chair had been toppled. The guide was a few feet behind him, his body charred and shriveled. Harper couldn't understand how that could have happened and the smell of burnt flesh was making him gag. His attention was diverted when Trask suddenly groaned and lifted his head. Harper gritted his teeth as another spasm of pain shook him before focusing on Trask. "Sir?" he gasped. The Reverend had an almost unearthly knack for survival. Harper had absolute faith that he could get out of this debacle as well. And, after everything he'd done for the man, surely Trask would remember his loyal servant.

Trask groaned again, pushing himself up on his elbows. His eyes grew wide as he took in scene around him. Turning his head, he seemed equally shocked to see what had happened to the guide. Trask sat up, ignoring the gunfire, his expression dark and forbidding. Harper felt a surge of hope. This was the man who turned any defeat into a victory. His hope turned to outright shock when Trask pulled his legs in and rose to a crouch. "S-S-Sir?" he stuttered, not believing what he was seeing.

Trask raised a disdainful eyebrow as he began carefully backing towards the deeper shadows. "What, Mr. Harper?"

"Your legs! You can't - how, when?" Harper gasped.

Trask had the temerity to chuckle, shaking his head, "I'm going to miss your gullibility, Mr. Harper. Did you never wonder about my daily 'prayer and meditation' sessions? I regained use of my legs years ago." He edged closer to the shadows, watching as another of his men fell.

Feeling utterly betrayed, Harper stared at the man he'd spent years literally waiting on hand and foot. "But why?"

Trask rolled his eyes, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. A few more feet and he'd be home-free. "Because I could," he snapped impatiently, "Because I deserved that level of attention. Don't look so hurt, it's not my fault your IQ's no higher than your shoe size. You should be thanking me for allowing you in my presence." He stepped into the shadows and smiled in triumph, "Good-bye, Mr. Harper."

Suddenly suffused with rage, Harper picked up his pistol from where it had fallen and pointed it at Trask, "You son of a bitch."

Trask's eyebrows lifted in surprise before lowering angrily, "You fool. Put that down. Don't you understand? I've been Chosen. I am the One. I can't be killed."

Harper stared at him for a long second and then calmly pulled the trigger. He watched Trask stagger and drop to his knees as the blood spilled out across his chest. With a look of absolute shock, Trask pitched forward dead. Harper let the pistol fall from his hand and laid his head down. His leg and arm continued to bleed freely and he could feel his own death approaching. "Someone lied to you, too, Reverend. See you in hell," he murmured as he finally lost consciousness.

o o o o o

Josef looked up as a roaring sound began in the distance. Dubby glanced up as well before looking at the old man. "What?"

Josef braced himself, taking a firm hold of Dubby's shirt and lowering his head, "Hold."

Dubby stared at him as the roaring grew louder and louder. His eyes grew wide as he suddenly identified the sound as wind. Ducking his head, he grabbed onto Josef as well as they huddled behind the rocks. Moments later, gale-force winds ripped through the area, filling the air with debris and snapping trees in two. It was over in seconds. Somewhat dazed, Dubby raised his head and looked at the camp. It looked like the aftermath of an explosion. Nothing was left standing. The campfires had been scattered, the hot coals igniting debris and lighting numerous smaller fires. It gave everything a hellish look but it also made it easier to see. He slowly climbed to his feet and felt Josef tugging on his arm. The old man pointed into the camp, "There." He lifted his hand and pointed a little further over, "There."

Dubby squinted in those directions and shook his head. He couldn't tell what Josef had seen. "Come on," he said, edging around the rocks. Keeping his rifle ready, Dubby moved cautiously into the remains of the camp, picking his way around the fires and bodies. Josef hurried ahead, intent on one particular area. When he reached it, he bowed quickly before kneeling down next to Harm.

Kate stared at the old man is surprise, "You can see me?"

"Yes, Your Ladyship. You and the White Lady." Josef bobbed his head again as his fingers sought out the pulse on Harm's neck. He smiled in relief a few seconds later. "Alive," he said as Dubby joined him.

"Thank god," The Gunnery Sergeant replied as he continued to scan the area. He looked down when Josef nudged his leg and pointed a little to the left. Nodding, he headed in that direction. Half a minute later, he carefully knelt down next to Sarah. Relieved to find her breathing as well, he put a hand on her good shoulder and jostled it gently, "Colonel? Can you hear me?"

He smiled as she slowly opened her eyes. They widened when she recognized him and she lifted her head a little, "Dubby? I thought - Are you all right?"

"Mostly," he answered, still smiling. "Think you can sit up, ma'am?" He caught movement out of the corner of his eye just then and swiftly brought the rifle up.

"Hey, take it easy. We're on your side."

Dubby frowned a little. The man sounded American, Texan to be specific. What the hell was a Texan doing out here? He caught the Colonel starting to sit up in his peripheral vision and whispered, "Stay down, ma'am, until we know who we're dealing with. It could be a trap."

Mac continued to push herself upright, gritting her teeth at the effort, "I know that voice." She turned her head and called somewhat breathlessly, "Mark?"

"Yeah, it's me. Mind telling your bodyguard to quit pointing that cannon at us? I've been shot at enough tonight." The voice sounded mildly exasperated.

"That's because you stand too close to your targets, Major." Another voice came out of the darkness from behind Dubby. He winced as he tried to turn quickly in that direction.

Mac turned her head, too, her eyebrows raising, "Agent Edgerton?"

"At your service, Colonel," the voice said dryly. "You throw a helluva party."

"Not my idea of fun," Mac muttered before looking up at Dubby, "It's okay. It's the FBI and the KGB."

"There's nothing okay about that combination," Dubby grunted, lowering his rifle. "Come in," he called. The more protection he could assemble around the JAG officers the better. He needed a break. He watched as two men walked slowly forward out of the darkness.

"Where's Harm? Is he okay?"

Dubby looked down at the Colonel and frowned. She apparently wasn't talking to him, her head turned in the opposite direction.

Avis smiled reassuringly, "Harm is fine. He's waking up now. Kate is with him."

"Trask?" Mac couldn't help glancing around the camp apprehensively.

"Gone from this earth," Avis nodded decisively. She held up her hands when it looked like Mac was about to ask something else, "I will answer your questions later. Now is not the time for that discussion. You must leave this place. It's not safe for you or Harm."

"Don't know, ma'am. Haven't seen him yet."

Confused for a moment, Mac realized Dubby was answering her question to Avis. Sokol and a younger man walked up just then with Ian Edgerton joining them a few seconds later. Sokol looked from Mac to Dubby, "Haven't seen who?"

"Trask," Dubby grunted, sizing up the KGB agents. He had no reservations about Edgerton.

Ian stepped back, already scanning the area, "I'll find him. I've got a warrant for his arrest." He glanced over his shoulder as he moved off, "Get ready to leave. We shouldn't stay here."

"No kidding," Sokol muttered, looking around. It already smelled like a charnel house, he couldn't imagine what it would be like in the morning. He pointed towards Josef, "Who's that guy?"

"Josef Tarchevsky," Dubby answered shortly. "He was the guide the kidnappers hired. He helped Carol Dzurick escape. He's a good man."

Sokol stared at the Gunnery Sergeant in surprise, "Carol Dzurick escaped? Where is she?"

"Hopefully in a hospital by now," Mac answered, rubbing her forehead while trying vainly to hold her ruined shirt and jacket together. She gave Sokol a grateful look when he silently handed over his coat and helped her put it on. "We ran into Carol on the trail. I sent Bell and Tyler back with her." Mac couldn't help frowning, recalling what Avis had shown, "They beat the hell out of her and she'd been shot, too."

She paused, glancing around again before looking up at Dubby, "What happened here? It looks like a bomb went off."

He shrugged a little, "I'm not really sure what to call it, ma'am - a mini tornado? It was here and gone in a less than a minute."

"Made a helluva mess in a short amount of time," Sokol agreed looking around, uncomfortably. A cold shiver crept down his back and he scowled, giving himself a slight shake, "Think you can walk, Sarah? Edgerton's right, we need to get out of here."

Mac nodded wearily, accepting Sokol's assistance in rising. She'd just gotten to her feet when she heard a welcome and familiar voice calling her name. Turning, she saw Harm limping towards her, Josef supporting him on one side. She hurried towards him, her smile threatening to split her face in two. A few seconds later, they were wrapped in each other's fierce embrace. They stood quietly, ignoring everything around them for a little while, knowing reality would be intruding soon enough. Mac had her head resting lightly on Harm's chest, taking comfort in listening to the steady beat of his heart. Harm concentrated on the warm feel of her in his arms. It had been much too close. Finally, he leaned his head down and whispered quietly, "What did I tell you? Butch and Sundance."

Smiling, Mac pulled back a little and reached a hand up to lightly trace the stubble on his cheek. "Butch and Sundance," she agreed softly before adopting a stern look, "But no more cliffs. Understood, Mister?"

He grinned, turning his head and kissing the palm of her hand, "Ma'am, yes, ma'am."


	29. Chapter 29

Sorry for the long time between posts. It's taking a bit longer to wrap things up and RL keeps intruding. My horse decided to wrench his shoulder and is currently three-legged lame. Time is the cure, unfortunately, along with anti-inflammatories. At least now he is managing to get up without help after laying down to rest. There's nothing quite as invigorating as trying to position an 1100 lb. horse to get to his feet without getting caught in the process. Getting up every couple of hours to check on him hasn't been much fun either. Fortunately, my neighbors are retired and they keep me posted on his condition while I'm at work.

Anyway, I appreciate all the reviews and everyone seems unanimous in wanting all the details. There will be another chapter after this and an epilogue, too. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy this next chapter as well.

Chapter 29

Thursday,

Bymer Pass

Southeastern Bacovia

1805 Local

Unwilling to pull his aim away from the man who'd surrendered, Tink watched Anatoli slowly swing Pick's rifle towards him. "What are you doing?" he growled, "Where's Lt. Tyler?"

"You try to kill me," Anatoli replied, firming up his grip, "Not so easy."

Tink rolled his eyes in exasperation, "The only thing we 'tried' was to get you away from the shooting." The last man started to ease back a step and froze when Tink glared at him. "Look, we're the good guys here."

Anatoli snorted, jerking his chin towards the bodies on the trail, "Does not look good. Looks same."

"So now what? You shoot me?" Tink gestured with his rifle towards his prisoner, "You shoot him? You become a murderer?"

"I am protecting myself, my family," Anatoli scowled. "I will do what I must."

"Will that include killing the witnesses?"

All three men turned towards the sound of a woman's voice. Carol stood there with Leonid at her side. Tink was first to recover, automatically warning his prisoner not to move before turning to look at Carol, "Get back, ma'am. Please."

"Leonid! How - ?" Anatoli suddenly brought the rifle up to his shoulder, sighting in on Tink. "You! You steal my son!" he spat angrily.

"Papa! No!" Leonid was torn between racing to his father and staying with Miss Montgomery. She wasn't that steady on her feet. If he left her alone, she would probably fall. He switched to Russian, speaking rapidly, "These are the Americans! I came to warn them about those men who threatened you and Mama. They are protecting me and Miss Montgomery." He glanced up at Carol before looking at his father again, "Grandfather helped her escape from the first men."

Startled, Anatoli lowered the rifle slowly, "You came out here on your own? When? How did you know about these men? We could not find you earlier."

Leonid flushed a little, digging a toe into the dirt. He wasn't sure how to explain what he'd done earlier without getting in a lot more trouble than he already was. You didn't tell your father flat out that he'd been wrong and dishonorable, especially in front of outsiders. "I - uh - I heard you and Mama talking after the Americans left." He glanced up to gauge his father's reaction and flinched. He hadn't merited a whipping in years but he was probably going to get one this time. His grandfather wouldn't be there to argue his side. He hung his head, continuing reluctantly, "I, um, took the phone and Rayna and went down the mountain. When I came back, those men were there," he pointed a finger at the surviving man, "I heard what they said and I had to do something. They were bad, just like the ones Grandfather was leading. I thought if I could warn the Americans and find Grandfather, we wouldn't get in trouble with the government."

Meanwhile, Carol had been quietly translating the conversation for Tink. She frowned as she did so, feeling Leonid trembling slightly. While Carol believed in boundaries and discipline in raising children, including the occasional swat applied to a rear-end, she did not condone beating. It was obvious to her that Leonid was afraid of what his father would do. She looked down at the boy, "Who did you call?"

Leonid glanced up at her, startled at the interruption, "A man, an American, Epp - ?"

Carol looked at Tink who nodded slowly, "Don Eppes with the LA FBI. He was the one who figured out who was behind the kidnapping." Tink turned and scowled at Anatoli, "The Colonel gave her phone to you and paid you to make that call. Why did Leonid have to do it?"

Anatoli's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, unwilling to admit what he'd done, or rather, what he hadn't done. He never should have listened to his wife.

Tink's eyes narrowed, "You worthless- ," he amended his language with a glance at Leonid, "You weren't going to call, were you? You took the money and would have left us hanging. Your son has - "

"Lieutenant," Carol stopped him although she certainly agreed with what he was saying. Insulting the man, however, - no matter how warranted - would probably come back on the boy. She turned to Anatoli, "Please put the rifle down, Mr. Tarchevsky, and step back. The people who come down that trail next will be the Royal Bacovian Army. You don't want them to find you like this."

Tink watched Anatolia silently as the man stared at Carol before glancing down the trail. He felt like cheering. This was the Carol Dzurick he knew. Despite her battered appearance and ill-fitting clothes, her calm, reasonable tone reeked of long-established authority and quiet courage. She expected to be obeyed and she would not flinch.

Anatoli glanced from the woman to the big man, feeling ashamed and somewhat worried. She sounded so sure of herself. How could he have strayed so far and not seen? The consequences might have been deadly for the entire family if Leonid hadn't taken it upon himself to honor the ancient pact. He looked down the trail again. Everyone knew the Bacovian Army could be ruthless when confronting enemies. Would that be how they saw him? Who was this woman?

"Mr. Tarchevsky," Carol repeated quietly.

With a resigned sigh, Anatoli put the rifle down against the boulder and backed away nervously. As soon as the barrel was no longer aimed at him, Tink moved forward to secure his prisoner. The man had been listening unabashedly and almost seemed startled when Tink put him on the ground and hogtied him. Satisfied the man would stay put, he hurried over to find out what happened to Pick. He hesitated for just a moment, steeling himself for what he might find, before circling around to the far side of the boulder. Pick was curled on his side at the base, unmoving. Swearing quietly, Tink knelt down next to the smaller man, "Pick? Can you hear me?" He slid a couple of fingers along Tyler's neck, checking for a pulse.

"Is he alive?"

Tink glanced up to see Carol looking worried as she stood braced between Leonid and the boulder. He nodded as he carefully ran his hand over Pick's head, looking for injuries. A few seconds later, he grunted to himself as he traced an egg-shaped lump near the back of Pick's head. Gently probing it, he couldn't find any blood. That had to be a good thing. Pick groaned suddenly, weakly flapping a hand in the direction of his head.

Encouraged, Tink shared a hopeful look with Carol and leaned in a bit closer, "Pick?" He watched as Tyler's eyes blinked open and squinted as he groaned again. When he started to push himself up, Tink lent a hand, helping Pick sit up with his back against the boulder.

Slouched forward, with his head resting in his hands, Pick stayed still for a few seconds before slowly turning his head towards Tink. "We win?" he whispered, his voice somewhat rough.

"No thanks to the Navy," Tink grinned in relief. "While you were napping, the Marines took care of business - as usual."

Pick lifted his head a fraction, attempting a glare, "Didn't want to spoil your fun. Know how giddy Marines get when they're shot at." His voice was somewhat stronger.

Feeling a nudge, Carol looked down at Leonid, "Yes?"

"They don't like each other?" Leonid whispered, looking a little worried.

Carol smiled, still half-listening to the two men, "They're best friends. They're just letting each other know how worried they were." She grinned down at Leonid, "You should hear them when they're happy."

Satisfied that Pick wasn't seriously injured, Tink stood up and froze as a harsh voice yelled something in Russian. Immediately he lunged towards Carol, trying to get himself between her and Leonid and whatever this latest threat was. There was a burst of automatic rifle fire and everything went black.

o o o o o

Thursday,

Trail to Romanian border

Southeastern Bacovia

2330 Local

"We can handle the watches," Sokol scowled at Edgerton while gesturing towards Fyodr and Josef. "Go sleep off the jet-lag."

The two men glared at each other before Edgerton finally shrugged. There was no way he'd ever admit it but his ass was dragging. "Fine, but if anything happens, or you even suspect something might happen, you wake me. Understood?" Somewhat mollified when Sokol nodded firmly, Ian turned towards the campfire and spread out his bedroll near where Harm and Mac lay sleeping. They were only about two miles from Trask's campsite. Ian would have preferred putting more distance between them but it was late and neither the Rabbs nor Gunny Walters could handle any more travel. He hadn't been surprised about the Commander or the Colonel needing rest but he'd been shocked as hell to find out the Gunnery Sergeant had been wounded earlier. Josef had outed Walters, scolding the big man in Russian and in a way that had Mac, Sokol and Fyodr smiling. Then the old man had turned magician, disappearing into the darkness and returning fifteen minutes later with not two, but three horses. Two belonged to Josef and third must have come from Trask's camp. Ian didn't really care one way or the other. Having them made it easier to move the Commander and the Gunny. The third was the packhorse, still carrying supplies, which made the camp a little more comfortable as well as providing some food. Josef had offered to strip off the pack so the Colonel could ride, too, but she'd turned him down. Instead, he'd rigged a hand-hold for her out of rope and attached it to the saddle of Rabb's horse.

Settling down, Ian closed his eyes wearily. A couple of hours rest would see him right. Once they got off this godforsaken trail and crossed into Romania, maybe the cellphones would start working again and he could check in with Eppes. This time Trask really was dead, along with the rest of his men. Ian hoped they enjoyed their time in Hell, they'd certainly earned it.

o o o o o

Kate took up her post next to Harm and Mac, watching the rest of the group carefully. Edgerton and Sokol both had a dark tinge about them that made it difficult for her to relax. Kate supposed it had something to do with their professions. Edgerton was a sniper after all, and who knew what Sokol had done as part of the KGB. Despite that, they had firmly opposed Trask. She would give them the benefit of doubt but she wasn't about to trust either of them. Josef was another story altogether. It was a trifle unnerving. He could still see her, even though Mac could not, and had a disconcerting habit of bowing whenever he caught her looking his way.

Sokol took the first watch, a blanket draped over his shoulders as the night grew cooler. Mac still had his coat. He'd refused to take it back. Fyodr turned in immediately and so did Josef after he'd checked on his horses one more time. Kate relaxed and let her senses reach out the way Tess had taught her. There were little pools and eddies of darkness all around them, growing deeper and more numerous until they merged into the solid blackness of Tchort's Forest. Kate frowned a little at the level of activity that was still going on. She thought Avis had dealt them a pretty severe blow. Speaking of whom, Kate turned and smiled as Avis appeared nearby. She was getting better at sensing her mentor as well. She waited patiently as the woman stayed still for a few moments, no doubt assessing the threat level around them.

After a few seconds, Avis walked over, smiling at Kate as she knelt down next to Harm and Mac. They were snuggled together with one bedroll spread out underneath and one over top. Mac was on her side with her head on Harm's shoulder and an arm draped across his chest. Kate watched as Avis placed a hand over each of them for a few moments. Neither really moved but Kate thought she could sense a deeper relaxation in both. "What did you do?" she asked when Avis stood up again.

"Chased out a few shadows," Avis replied, smiling slightly. "Their sleep should be a bit more restful."

Kate nodded slowly before blurting out the question she'd been itching to ask, "What are you exactly? I mean, you keep saying you're just a guardian spirit and that you knew Mac when you were alive but none of it makes sense. I'm a guardian spirit, too, and what happened today was way beyond my pay grade. That - that Thing swatted me away like a gnat and you blasted it out of existence."

Avis regarded her steadily for a little bit. "I am what I am," she said finally, holding up a hand when Kate started to speak again. "What was happening was out of the ordinary and required extraordinary measures. One of Hell's minions took possession of a mortal to accomplish its goals. Such things upset the balance and cannot be tolerated."

Kate's eyebrows rose, "Trask?"

"No," Avis shook her head, "although he was firmly in its thrall. It was the 'guide' Trask hired to get him through Tchort's Forest."

"Him? But why didn't he try something in the Forest? We couldn't have stopped him," Kate shook her head, looking bewildered. Trying to figure out the rules in this reality was nearly as hard as it had been figuring out all of Gibbs' rules.

Avis smiled grimly, "He didn't dare. The Forest doesn't like competition and it's far more established. He could do what we did - work subtly to achieve his objectives. It so happened that our objective was the same at that point - get out of the Forest."

"But - but, they're on same the side," Kate protested. "I don't understand. Shouldn't they have worked together?"

"Cooperation isn't a strong suit among such entities," Avis answered dryly, "The strong prevails and absorbs the weak along the way, even if they're supposedly allies."

Kate was silent for a moment while she thought it over, "But at the camp, that thing didn't appear right away. It waited until Mac had taken that ass down a second time. Then it stopped both of us in our tracks. Why didn't it do that from the first?"

"I don't know," Avis shrugged. "Such beings delight in mayhem and torment. I suppose it was toying with everyone. It was aware of you. Sarah and Harm weren't the only targets."

Kate shuddered a little, remembering the horrifying drain of her energy. She hadn't known that was possible. "Why didn't it affect you? And what was it doing to Mac? I thought it wasn't allowed to physically touch her."

"It wasn't. Doing so hastened its own demise," Avis looked somewhat grim. "And I was merely the vessel for restoring the balance. There were higher powers at work this night."

Kate's eyes grew round in surprise, "Wow." She frowned a little, glancing down at the sleeping JAG officers, "Mac's okay, isn't she? It didn't do any permanent damage, did it?"

"The damage was reversible and Sarah will be fine, in time," Avis smiled. "Both Harm and Sarah's actions have brought them well-deserved recognition. Their resistance was much stronger than any had anticipated. It bought us valuable time to avert a number of potential catastrophes."

"I don't understand," Kate admitted, shaking her head. It had seemed like they were moving from one disaster to another.

"Despite what that man Trask wanted, it was no coincidence that Carol Dzurick was taken in Mac's place," Avis replied. She nodded at Kate's wide-eyed expression, "There was much more going on than a simple case of revenge. The Enemy saw an opportunity to destabilize an entire country. Gheorghe has been teetering on the edge, helped along by conveniently recurring memories of betrayal. He could have easily plunged his nation into civil war. That chaos would have likely spread to neighboring countries. Queen Margarete was not supposed to survive the attack in the ballroom. Nicolas was not supposed to take the second bullet meant for his sister. As always, the Enemy underestimates the sacrifices one makes out of love." Avis held up a hand, "Only one more question for tonight."

Although she had a lot to think about, Kate couldn't help feeling a bit frustrated. This was as talkative as Avis had ever been. She finally asked the one thing that had grown ever more puzzling as she learned more about Avis, "How did you and Mac meet?"

Avis grinned, "Simply enough. We met during the war." She shook her head when it looked like Kate was going to ask another question, "No more. We still have jobs to do." She continued to smile as Kate huffed a little before leaving to circle the perimeter. Once the former NCIS agent was gone, Avis looked down at Mac. "How much did you hear?" she asked quietly.

"A lot," Mac mumbled, sounding a bit groggy. She didn't bother lifting her head or opening her eyes.

"Go back to sleep," Avis ordered softly. "We'll talk about this later when you're feeling better."

"Yes, ma'am."

o o o o o

Friday,

Gapochka Trauma Center

Toprek, Bacovia

0030 Local

Trailed by a security detail, Carol quietly followed the Medical Director down the corridors to her son's room. She was dead on her feet but having finally learned about Nicky and Cat, she couldn't rest until she'd seen them both. The last six hours had been a nightmare beginning with the advance scout of a military rescue column shooting Lt. Bell. There'd been a few seconds of stunned shock and then her anger had erupted, first at the scout and then at the lieutenant who'd arrived soon after and had the gall to proclaim that she'd just been rescued. Her anger was nothing compared to Pick's rage. It was just as well that he'd been unable to stand or Carol was sure he would have launched himself at the scout. She then discovered just how thorough her children's tutelage of Russian had been as Pick resorted to language that would have made a longshoreman blush. She finally managed to get him to stop for Leonid's sake. Anatoli then captured everyone's attention when he declared that Tink was still alive. He'd been the first to reach the big man, no doubt hoping in part, to atone for his earlier mistakes.

Carol brusquely ordered the medic who'd approached her first to take care of Bell. Knowing time was of the essence, she dispatched the scout back to the trailhead with orders to call in a Medivac helicopter as soon as he could establish communications. The purpose was twofold - to have medical help and transportation waiting and to get the man out of Pick's sight. The ninety minutes it took to get everyone organized and to reach the trailhead had been agonizing. There, she'd taken her leave of the Tarchevsky family - by then, they were all aware of who she was - giving the blushing Leonid a kiss on the cheek and promising the stunned parents she would return. The scout had halfway redeemed himself by not only arranging air transport but also commandeering an ambulance and its medical attendants. Carol once again confounded protocol by sitting up front with the driver so Tyler could ride in back with Bell.

Their arrival at the local hospital had thrown everyone into a tizzy. Due to security concerns, the staff had only received a ten minute warning. That had suited Carol just fine. Instead of the usual plethora of administrative types and overly dignified senior MDs availing themselves of a royal ear, she got an abrupt, harried and very competent attending physician. He taken Bell first, getting him prepped for surgery and into an OR quickly. She'd been next, despite her protests that she could go last. No doubt sensing her trepidation as the nurse helped her out of the layers of clothing, the Doctor had maintained a clinical detachment as he catalogued and treated her injuries. Aware of her reputation as a horsewoman, he was very careful in examining the broken bones in her hand, finally delivering his opinion that, with therapy, she should regain nearly full strength and use. The Doctor also recommended she see a specialist to confirm that opinion. He didn't say a word about the heelprint on her skin that made it very obvious how her hand had been broken in the first place.

They'd placed her hand in a temporary air cast and redressed the arm wound and Carol had refused any painkillers stronger than aspirin. She knew word would soon reach her family of her safe return and that security would come swarming. She had no intention of reuniting with everyone while half-addled on drugs. She did, however, take the offer of a bed and a private room. With the pressure finally off, exhaustion was seeping in and she needed to rest. Less than two hours later, Liz Parker had slid quietly into her room and awakened her. The two old friends had hugged, laughed, cried and hugged again. Carol told Liz more about Tink and Pick and learned with dismay that no one had heard anything from Sarah or Harm. She said nothing about what she'd gone through and Liz didn't push.

Finally, Liz told her about Cat and Nicky. After that, wild horses couldn't keep Carol in bed. Liz had come fully prepared for that reaction, knowing every mother's instinct was to be with their children in time of need. She'd already made the arrangements for Carol, Tyler and Bell. Tink had made it through surgery and was in Recovery. The surgeon had given his 'guarded but hopeful' speech and, barring complications, Tink would be moved to the room he would share with Pick in a couple more hours. As soon as it was safe, the two would be transported to the Gapochka Trauma Center where Nicky was recovering. Until that time, a security detail would remain with them. Meanwhile, Liz and the rest of the security team escorted Carol onto a waiting helicopter and flew her to the Trauma Center to see her son. From there, she would travel back to the palace to see Cat and after that, Liz told Carol in no uncertain terms that the only thing she would see would be a bed. The rest of the family could visit her there.

Carol slowed down as she approached the door to the suite that Nicky was in. Both security guards had quickly stifled looks of shock and stepped respectfully out of the way. She had no idea if their reactions were due to her unexpected arrival or the state of her appearance. Receiving a reassuring look from Liz, she took a deep breath and nodded. Liz quietly opened the door and stepped out of the way. Carol crossed the threshold and stopped, taking in the scene. Nicky's eyes were closed and his face pale with the slightest shadow of a beard appearing. A single wide band of bandaging went around his chest and there were numerous tubes and wires attached. She watched the steady rise and fall as he breathed and listened to reassuring rhythmic beep of the heart monitor.

Gheorghe and Harley had turned upon hearing the door open. Gus and El were asleep on the couch on the far side of Nicky's bed. Gheorghe had been the first out of his chair with Harley only a step behind, their initial shock giving way to joyous surprise. Gheorghe had slowed on his approach, letting Harley be the first to greet her daughter. He hadn't missed the quick flash of fearful wariness that had crossed Carol's battered face as he'd hurried towards her. He cautiously closed the distance while Harley quietly exclaimed over Carol's various injuries as only a mother could. When Harley finally stepped back, he was within an arm's length of her. Slowly extending a hand, palm up, he murmured softly, "Lyubov moya, pridI ka mne."

Carol stared at him for a long moment before slowly reaching out her right hand. Covering it lightly with his other hand, Gheorghe raised her encased hand up and gently kissed her fingers, "Ti takaya krasIvaya."

A sob caught in Carol's throat as tears welled up. "Oh Geordie," she managed to get out as the dam burst and she began to cry. He gathered her in and she buried her head in his chest and continued to sob. Gheorghe kept his embrace light, not knowing where else she was injured. He gave Liz a look and received a nod in return. Cat and Mo would see their mother later in the morning, she wasn't going anywhere else tonight. Trusting Liz to handle the logistics, Gheorghe concentrated on the woman in his arms. He had a lot of making up to do. Cat had broken through the wall he'd built around himself and exposed his actions over the last years to the light of day. There was little to be proud of and he now knew with devastating clarity what it would have felt like if he had succeeded in driving away his wife and children.

o o o o o

Friday,

Romanian border

0630 Local

The little group came to a halt. Mac and Harm exchanged a glance before turning a questioning look towards Sokol and Josef. "Mark?" Mac asked quietly, leaning slightly against Harm's horse. Sleep and a decent breakfast had gone a long way but she still ached and knew Harm's knee hadn't gotten much better.

Sokol rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Fyodr, "The Romanian border is less than a quarter mile away, down around that bend."

"And -?" Harm chimed in. He had an idea of where this might be going.

Sokol humphed a bit, shooting a mild glare at the Commander, "And - the Romanian Army is camped there, waiting to rescue you and Carol Dzurick. I don't think they'll be that pleased to see me and I'm pretty sure I don't want to see them either."

"You think they'll arrest you?" Mac frowned, "But you, Fyodr and Ian saved us. We would have died back there. Surely, they'd understand the extenuating circumstances."

"I don't know that that would matter much," Sokol shook his head. He gestured towards Ian and Josef, "Let them think it was Edgerton and Tarchevsky. Once they leave with you, Fyodr and I can slip through and head back home."

"That's not fair. You two deserve some recognition for what you've done," Mac couldn't help arguing while knowing it was pointless.

Sokol smiled grimly with a glance at Fyodr, "I think we can do without that sort of recognition." He waved a hand, "Go on, go get rescued. It'll strengthen the ties between Bacovia and Romania. Margarete will be able to turn this to her advantage. Bacovia hit the jackpot with that young woman."

Ian now nodded, he'd been listening quietly to the exchange. Sokol had a point, he didn't think the Romanian military would cut the KGB agents any slack either. He gestured towards the packhorse, "Why don't you pull off what you need? No sense in being uncomfortable while you wait." He glanced at Josef and frowned a little, "Something wrong, Mr. Tarchevsky?"

Mac looked over at the older man, absently noting how much more respectful Edgerton sounded when addressing Josef. She understood the feeling. He had an old world charm about him and the courage of a lion, having helped save Carol and Dubby. She'd never met anyone quite like him.

Josef absently smoothed his mustache, glancing towards the woman. He'd been flabbergasted to discover that she was the real Colonel MacKenzie, Rabb's wife. That had led to the question of who the first woman was. He thought Dubby had enjoyed watching his face when he discovered he'd helped the Queen Mother. He'd learned that the American enjoyed a good joke. After the shock had worn off, he couldn't help thinking he should have figured it out. She'd spoken Russian like a native and every Bacovian worth his salt knew that Carol Dzurick was an exceptional rider. After that, he'd arched an eyebrow at the White Lady, deciding it couldn't have been a coincidence that the escape plan he'd come up with had been specifically suited to the Queen Mother's unique talents. God did move in mysterious ways. He cleared his throat, addressing the American but speaking in Russian. As he hoped, the Colonel dutifully translated for him, "I do not have the papers to cross the border."

Harm frowned. He understood Sokol's special circumstances but would the Romanians truly be that strict about the border? He looked down at Mac with a wry expression, "You know, we don't have passports either."

Mac rolled an eye at him, "Speak for yourself, Navy. Marines come prepared." Her passport was still zipped into the inside pocket of her ruined jacket. She smiled, "But I'll be happy to vouch for you." She turned serious, looking at Sokol, "Would the Romanians really give Mr. Tarchevsky a problem? They know why we're here."

Sokol grunted, "Hard to say - it would depend on the guy in charge. If he's an ass, then yeah, they could confiscate Tarchevsky's horses and take him into custody until someone in Bacovia requests his release. Meanwhile, his horses and belongings would be conveniently 'misplaced'." He glanced at Josef and repeated what he'd said in Russian. The old man vigorously nodded his head in agreement.

The group was silent for a few seconds before Harm spoke up, "Well, I wouldn't mind stretching my legs a bit. I could walk." He glanced over at Gunny Walters who nodded slowly. Mac regarded Dubby worriedly. He'd grown more quiet since they'd gotten up this morning and she was afraid his wound was becoming infected. They'd done what they could with their limited supplies but what they really needed was a hospital. What they didn't need was to waste time.

Ian was of the same opinion, "All right. Let's get moving. Major Sokol, Fyodr and Mr. Tarchevsky will stay here. The Commander, Colonel and Gunny will come with me. Seeing how we'll be guests of Romania soon, we can travel light on this last stretch. Colonel, you can help the Commander and I'll help the Gunny."

Fifteen minutes later, the four rounded the last bend in the trail. Less than one hundred yards away, a guidepost marked the border. On the far side, a pair of soldiers straightened suddenly. One of them pulled out a handset and spoke into it. By the time the four Americans made it to the dividing line, there were a dozen soldiers waiting with an officer in front. He bowed courteously, gesturing for them to cross the line. As soon as they entered Romanian territory, he introduced himself as Captain Deleanu. By mutual agreement, Ian identified himself first, pulling out his FBI ID and badge. He introduced Harm and Gunny and Deleanu greeted them in heavily accented English. When Ian turned to Mac, the Captain put up a hand and shook his head. From there, things moved quickly as Deleanu immediately turned them over to his medic. Faster than Mac would have thought possible, stretchers were deployed for the three of them and troops detailed. The Romanian Captain was equally well-organized and efficient. In less than thirty minutes, he had his small force moving down the mountain trail. Facing backwards, Mac watched as the Bymer Pass slowly receded from view and gave her head a small shake. The Pass had turned out to be as deadly as its reputation made it out to be.


	30. Chapter 30

I was hoping to post this last night but was having a few issues and I couldn't log in. There's so much stuff to wrap up that I'm thinking one more chapter after this and an epilogue after that. Thanks for everyone's patience and reviews. I know it's hard to wait.

Chapter 30

Friday,

Gapochka Trauma Center

Toprek, Bacovia

0600 Local

WIth a vague sense of deja vu, Mo hurried down the corridors of the Trauma Center surrounded by a security detail. The difference this time was that it wasn't El who accompanied her but Maggie Bell. Liz had called Arina around one o'clock this morning to let her know about Carol, Tyler and Bell's return and condition. The two women had agreed that waiting until dawn would let everyone continue to get some well-needed rest. By then, Liz expected Tyler and Bell to have been transferred to Gapochka. She'd also hoped to hear something about Colonel Mac and Commander Harm but nothing had been learned so far.

Neither sister had been pleased about the delay although Mo had grudgingly conceded that the two women had had a point. She'd been exhausted by the time she'd turned in and she knew Cat needed the rest even more. Had they known, sleep would have been impossible. Even so, Cat wasn't allowed to come this morning. The palace physician had finally put his foot down and actually gotten Daniel, Marius and Arina on his side. The young Queen had been pushing the limits of her endurance already, pre-dawn helicopter excursions were completely out of the question. Mo, after talking with her twin, had reluctantly sided with the doctor as well. Fortunately, for all concerned, Cat wasn't given to explosions of temper but the gimlet stare she leveled at all told them to enjoy this victory, they wouldn't get a second one.

Mo and Maggie reached Pick and Tink's room first. Fidgeting impatiently, the women exchanged looks as one of the security detail tapped on the door and quietly entered the room. A few seconds later, he pulled the door open signaling that it was safe for the Princess to enter. Mo gestured for Maggie to precede her knowing Tink had been more seriously injured. Had the positions been reversed, Mo knew she would have trampled Maggie to get to Pick first. Mo stopped just past the doorway, her breath catching a little. Tink was either unconscious or heavily sedated, most of his torso swathed in bandages. Tubes and wires radiated out making him look like some science project gone horribly wrong. Maggie was standing at his bedside, both her hands wrapped around one of his. Pick, wearing a dark bathrobe, stood on the far side of Maggie with one arm around her shoulders, his head close to hers as he talked quietly. After a moment, he raised his eyes and looked towards Mo, inviting her over with a slight tilt of his head.

Mo closed the distance quickly, sliding in on Maggie's other side and wrapping an arm around her waist in silent support. Having just been through this with Nicky, she knew how hard it was to listen to empty platitudes. She caught Pick's eye and raised an eyebrow at him. He sent a reassuring smile back. After a couple of minutes, Maggie straightened up. Sniffling a bit, she cleared her throat and looked from Pick to Mo, "Why don't you go see your Mom? I'll be fine here."

Mo eyed her skeptically, "Are you sure? I can stay a while longer. You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

Maggie gave her a small smile, "You're sweet but I'm sure. Go on, I know how anxious you must be to see her. Tom and I will still be here when you're done."

Mo gave her a peck on the cheek, "Thanks, I'll be back." Pick, after a quick word to Maggie, hurried to join Mo as she left the room. She grabbed hold of his hand as they headed down the hallway again. "Are you really okay?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, smiling a little, "Mama always said I was hard-headed. Guess she was right." He hesitated a few moments, his expression turning serious, "Mo, about your Mom… "

She slowed down, staring at him with wide eyes, "What about her?" The anxious little knot of worry and fear she'd been harboring suddenly expanded.

He exhaled slowly, "Take it easy when you see her, okay? What she went through - well, it was pretty rough."

Mo stopped completely, turning him to face her, "What are you saying? What happened?"

Pick glanced around and stepped in closer, dropping his voice to a near whisper, "I don't know exactly but it wasn't good. She panicked on us a couple of times when she thought she was restrained and she was terrified of Tink until she realized who he was." He paused, resting his hands lightly on Mo's shoulders, his voice growing softer still, "Someone beat the hell out of her and I don't think they stopped there."

Mo jerked back, looking horrified, "No!" The knot took a painful twist.

Pick followed her, "Look, I don't really know for sure; but either way, she's been traumatized, so keep that in mind if she reacts unexpectedly."

Mo stared at him before nodding. Turning, she continued slowly down the hallway as her mind raced frantically. Mo couldn't contemplate her mother being assaulted in any form, any more than she could imagine her mother in a state of panic. What were they going to do? Would she let them help her? It was a family joke that Mom should have 'I'm fine' tattooed on her forehead to save the wear and tear on her voice. She was the strong one in the family, the one everyone turned to when things went wrong. She was also the one least likely to admit any sort of problem. Pick's hand squeezing hers pulled her out of her internal reverie in time to realize they'd arrived at Nicky's rooms. Security was watching her, no doubt wondering when she planned to enter. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and walked in with Pick at her side.

o o o o o

Friday,

Spitalul Clinic Judetean de Urgenta  
Timisoara, Romania

0810 Local

Mac tiredly paced back and forth in the small exam room, unable to relax. When they'd reached the trailhead, the Romanian military had loaded them into a pair of ambulances and sent them off to the nearest medical facility. Once they'd hit the doors, Harm, Mac and Dubby had been shuffled off to various rooms to be evaluated and treated. Most of Mac's injuries were minor. Some probably could have used stitches but it was too late now. Her doctor had finished up about fourteen minutes ago and left after telling her they would be assigning her to a room soon. His English wasn't very good, his Russian not much better and she didn't speak Romanian, so it was next to impossible to get any information out of him regarding Harm and Dubby. He kept repeating that they were being treated. It was monumentally frustrating. To top it off, she couldn't hear Avis or Kate any more. Apparently, they'd moved to the background again and she would only be able to make contact with them in dreams. On one level, it was reassuring that both felt it was safe to draw back. On the other hand, Mac wouldn't have minded the company.

She couldn't help jumping a little as the door rattled just before opening. Turning to face whoever was coming in, she chided herself for the reaction. It was over. They were safe. Mac stiffened a moment later when two large men entered and silently took up positions on either side of the doorway. Before she could question them on just what the hell they were doing, a smiling older man in a well-tailored suit entered. As he looked at Mac, his smile quickly faded and was replaced with a look of shock.

Carefully folding her arms, Mac regarded him with the slight rise of an eyebrow. Okay, she probably did look like something the cat dragged in but there was no need to stare as if she'd grown a second head. She lifted her chin a bit, "May I help you?"

"You," he sputtered in Brit-accented English, "You are not Carol Dzurick!"

Mac's eyes narrowed, "I never claimed to be."

He was silent for a moment before stepping in closer and lowering his voice, "Where is she? She is not - ?"

Mac eyed him silently for a few seconds. The Romanians had been nothing but polite and helpful but after everything she'd been through it was hard not to be suspicious. On the other hand, Carol should be safe by now. She shook her head, "No, she's not. She escaped from her captors with the help of the guide they'd hired. We found her and I sent her back to the trailhead of the Bymer Pass with two of my men."

His eyebrows rose a fraction and he ran a finger over his rather luxurious mustache, "Then I would presume you are Colonel Rabb?" He smiled at the surprised look on her face, "Her Majesty, Queen Margarete, said that you and the Queen Mother were close enough in looks to be sisters." He bowed slightly, "She was quite right. You are both exceptionally beautiful women."

Mac blushed a little, "Thank you, sir, although I believe I'm looking a bit worse for wear."

His expression darkened a little, "Then I will also presume you encountered the kidnappers. Where are they?" At her surprised look, he waved a hand, "I have only heard the unofficial accounts and, as soon as I learned that four Americans had been rescued from the Bymer Pass, I came here."

Mac relaxed. Considering the fact that he'd thought one of the Americans would be Carol Dzurick, it was understandable that he would drop everything and come here. She shook her head, "They're all dead. Some died in Tchort's Forest, the rest were killed at their camp."

"Good!" His fierce expression changed to one of puzzlement, "But how many were there? Such a bold operation could not have been accomplished by just a few. Your husband was a captive, was he not? That left only three of you to oppose them. There was no mention of the Bacovian military."

Mac frowned slightly, not wanting to lie but not wanting to cause any problems for Mark. He was probably still in Romania. Finally, she decided to stall a little, "May I ask who you are, sir?"

He straightened, looking somewhat chagrined and dipping his head, "I beg your pardon. I am Mihai Iliesca, Ambassador to Bacovia. Queen Margarete asked my government to seal the border at the Bymer Pass. Her army was pursuing the criminals and she did not want any to escape. Given our countries' close ties, we were happy to assist." He looked at Mac expectantly.

"We had some unexpected assistance," Mac hedged a little. "The guide, Josef Tarchevsky, helped and I'm not sure if you're aware, but Special Agent Edgerton is one of the top snipers in the world. He had three of them down before they realized what was happening." She paused, "Ambassador, do you know what's being done with my husband and Gunnery Sergeant Walters? All I can find out is that they're being treated." Mac didn't have to fake the anxiousness in her voice.

Iliesca frowned a little, shaking his head, "I am sorry. Of course, you are worried about your husband and here I am, indulging my curiosity." He turned towards the door, extending a hand towards Mac at the same time, "Come, we will find out together. You are newlyweds, correct?"

Mac smiled ruefully as she moved towards the door, "If you can believe it, this was our honeymoon. I think we'll have to try again."

He couldn't help chuckling as he escorted her out of the exam room, "Undoubtedly."

o o o o o

Thursday,

Eppes residence

Pasadena, CA

1905 Local

Feeling his cellphone vibrate, Don excused himself from the table. Everyone had congregated at the Eppes family home for a farewell dinner for Larry before he left to begin his NASA assignment. Don knew Charlie and Megan weren't particularly happy about Larry's eminent departure and was somewhat surprised to find himself a little sad as well. He'd come to enjoy the quirky little professor's take on their cases and life in general. Glancing at the ID on his phone as he moved towards the kitchen, Don stiffened momentarily when he saw Ian's name. This would be the first news they'd heard since talking to NCIS early this morning. He hurried up a little, not wanting to ruin the celebration if the news wasn't good.

"Ian? What's up, man?" Don glanced up when the kitchen door opened and Megan stepped in. Her eyebrows rose when she heard Ian's name and she folded her arms, waiting expectantly.

"It's over," Ian said flatly. He was leaning against a wall near one of the waiting areas. He hadn't seen anyone since they'd arrived at the hospital and none of the hospital staff he tried talking to would admit to knowing enough English to understand him. He was tired, grubby and more than a little irritated.

"Over how?" Don asked, sharing a look with Megan. He switched the phone over to speaker and put it on the counter.

"Trask is really dead this time. Took one in the chest, looks like he bled out."

"What about Harm and Carol Dzurick? Was Sokol with you? Did you meet up with Mac and her group?"

"Carol wasn't there," Ian lowered his voice, glancing around. He never bothered himself about politics but he did realize that after recent events, bandying the Dzurick name around in this neck of the woods wouldn't be smart.

Don straightened up in alarm, "Wasn't there? Oh, damn. Did they kill her?"

"No, although Mac said later that she'd been shot. She escaped earlier and ran straight into the Colonel and her men. Mac sent the two lieutenants, Bell and Tyler, back with her to get help." Ian pushed himself off the wall and went in search of someplace more private. "Mac and Gunny Walters managed to kill the two kidnappers and rescue Harm for all of about five minutes before Trask and his merry men showed up. They shot the Gunny and the guide and took Harm and Mac back to his camp."

"Did they kill Walters and the guide?" Don interrupted. Dammit, that had to be the Bacovian kid's grandfather.

"No, but Trask didn't bother to check, just left them. I guess he assumed they'd die at some point. That guy was a real piece of work. Harm said he killed three of his own men on the way back to the camp." Ian's voice turned dry, "Apparently they misbehaved."

"Ian, this is Megan. When did you get there? Was Sokol with you?"

"Sokol and one of his guys was with me. We got to Trask's camp just as the entertainment started."

Don and Megan exchanged a look, not liking the tone of Ian's voice. "Entertainment?" Don asked.

"The kind of entertainment you'd expect with a dozen lowlifes and one woman." Ian sounded disgusted. His voice lightened for a moment, "For what it was worth, the Colonel kicked the ass of the first guy that tried to put his hands on her. Then Trask took a shot at her and missed. It turned into a brawl after that. Considering the odds, it lasted longer than I thought it would."

"What were you doing?" Megan couldn't help asking.

"Waiting for my shot," Ian snapped, clearly irritated. "And for Sokol and his guy to get into position. Once they'd restrained the Colonel and Commander, I got the window and opened fire. Sokol joined in next and then a third shooter opened fire, too. It was over pretty quickly after that." Ian paused for a moment, "Weirdest thing though. About the time the last man went down, this wind storm blew up out of nowhere, flattened the camp and disappeared. Never seen anything like that before."

Don shot a look at Megan and frowned a little; she was nodding thoughtfully like that was somehow expected. He looked back at the phone, "Who was the third shooter? The other KGB guy?"

"No - it was Gunny Walters and the guide, a Josef Tarchevsky," now Ian sounded amused. "Tarchevsky had only been grazed. Walters took a round in the side, which he tried to hide once everything was over. That lasted until Tarchevsky laid into him about it in Russian. I don't know what he said exactly but the Colonel and the KGB guys thought it was funny. Then the old man disappeared for a little while and came back with three horses. We left as soon as everyone was situated and headed for the border. We found the Romanians waiting. Sokol and Tarchevsky decided it was better to stay in Bacovia, so I went on with the Rabbs and Walters. Now we're at some hospital in Timisoara and I can't find anybody and no one seems to understand English." Ian was back to sounding aggravated again.

"Okay, well, how about I call the American Embassy and see if we can get things moving?" Don asked, feeling relieved.

"That would help, thanks Don," Ian sounded better.

"Ian, how badly were Harm and Mac injured?" Megan jumped in, knowing that had to be the only reason they weren't with Ian now. It wasn't just about her own worry, she needed to call Matthew O'Hara, too, and he'd want to know.

"I'm pretty sure Harm's busted a knee, I don't know how bad. Mac's seemed to mostly be bumps and bruises," Edgerton thought the Colonel had been damn lucky not to have been killed. "Look, get the American Embassy for me and I'll call again when I find out what's going on. Later, Eppes, Reeves." Ian ended the call.

Don reached for his phone, switching it off, "So that's that. This time Trask really is dead."

Megan raised an eyebrow, "Except that we still can't prove it was Margery Threetrails that started this whole mess and we don't know if Trask had any other plans already in motion." She pulled out her own phone, "I'm going to call Mr. O'Hara and at least let him know Harm and Mac are alive and safe." She glanced back at Don, "Maybe you should call Liz Parker again after you talk to the Embassy. The Burnetts are still in Bacovia. They're probably worried sick."

o o o o o

Friday,

Gapochka Trauma Center

Toprek, Bacovia

0820 Local

Carol slowly opened her eyes and froze for a moment, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Cautiously letting her eyes drift to the side, she relaxed when she saw Mo and her father watching her.

"Hey DaisyMae," Gus whispered, smiling, "Welcome back." His rough, calloused hand was gently stroking her hair.

"Hey Dad," Carol couldn't help the small grin at the nickname her father had bestowed upon her at her birth, much to her mother's chagrin. She smiled at Mo next and tried unsuccessfully to raise her head up enough to see Nicky. Not surprisingly, she'd managed to stiffen up while sleeping. Grimacing, she looked from her father to Mo, "How's Nicky?"

"He was awake for a few minutes a couple of hours ago. He's getting better," Mo answered, glancing at Gus. There'd been a silent agreement to wait to tell him about his mother's ordeal until he was a bit stronger.

Quietly clearing her throat, Carol whispered next, "And Cat?"

"Better now that you're safe," Mo smiled encouragingly, not wanting to upset her mother.

Carol sighed a little, "Please. How badly was she hurt?" Liz hadn't been all that forthcoming with details after telling her that two of her children had survived being shot and truthfully, at the time, she hadn't asked. It had taken all of her energy and focus to get to Gapochka more or less upright.

Mo's expression turned grim. She didn't like having to acknowledge how close she'd come to losing her twin, "It was serious. If Nicky hadn't protected her like he did, she would have died right then." She glanced towards her brother's bed, "He's a true hero." Mo shared a look with Gus before turning back to Carol. While they'd been keeping vigil, she'd told her grandfather about Pick's suspicions of what had happened. It turned out Gus already suspected something of the sort. She wasn't sure how to broach the subject or if she even should. Would they be able to bring in professional help?

Carol regarded the two of them with a frown, "Then why isn't she in the hospital? Who let her leave?"

Mo couldn't help rolling her eyes, "Mom, c'mon, Cat's a carbon copy of you. When she found out about you, Nicky and everything, she ran roughshod over everyone from the doctors on down to get back to the palace. She even faced down Daddy... " Mo's eyes widened as she realized what she'd just let slip. Both her mother and grandfather were staring at her.

Carol's eyes narrowed, "Why did she have to face him down? What happened?"

Mo shifted uncomfortably. It had been bad enough confessing her shortcomings to her sisters. She didn't want to have to do it with her mother and grandfather. Neither of her grandparents had realized what it meant when Gheorghe stepped in, their attention been far more focused on Nicky, Cat and Carol. She sent a quick prayer of thanks skyward when the door opened quietly, interrupting them. Liz Parker stepped in, smiling when she saw Carol was awake, "I just heard from Don Eppes - Mac and Harm are safe. They're in Romania along with Gunnery Sergeant Walters and Special Agent Ian Edgerton."

"Thank God," Carol breathed, closing her eyes for a moment. That was one less burden of guilt.

"And the kidnappers?" Mo asked. Had the Romanian army caught them? If so, she was hoping they'd shot the lot of them.

"Dead - all of them," Liz replied before shrugging apologetically, "I don't have that many details. I don't think Agent Eppes did either, he just wanted to make sure we knew about the Rabbs."

"Good," Gus muttered fiercely, glancing at his daughter. He'd known something was wrong beyond the physical injuries from the moment he'd laid eyes on her, so Mo's revelation wasn't exactly a shock. Knowing those bastards had gotten what they had coming to them had to help give her some closure. Hell, it certainly made him feel better.

He was also aware of the situation between Carol and Gheorghe. Surprisingly, it had been El who put him on that trail by virtue of not talking about about her parents. Anything that made his granddaughter not want to chatter incessantly had to be serious. He'd buttonholed Carol at the first opportunity and she'd politely told him to mind his own business. He hadn't liked it but respected her wishes. All marriages hit rough patches.

"Does Cat know?" Mo asked, her relief evident. While she knew the ramifications of this nightmare would continue for some time, the worst now seemed to be over.

Liz nodded, "She should. I called Arina to let her know. She was going to contact the Romanian Embassy and talk to Ambassador Iliesca. She said she'd call when she knew more." Liz shot a quick look at Carol, trying to assess her reaction. She'd been appalled at her best friend's condition and the trauma it implied. Carol had closed off a portion of herself and Liz was biding her time. She knew what she feared most had probably happened and Carol's behavior was only confirming it. They needed to talk.

o o o o o o

Friday,

Spitalul Clinic Judetean de Urgenta  
Timisoara, Romania

0915 Local

Tapping once on the door, Mac walked in and smiled. "Hey," she said quietly, moving up to the side of the bed.

"Hi," Harm smiled a bit blearily, "Missed you." They'd immobilized his knee and stuck him with various IVs, one of which was a painkiller just strong enough to make him pleasantly woozy.

Mac leaned in and kissed him, "Missed you, too. I've been talking to your doctor."

Harm frowned a little, "You did? I can't understand a word he's saying."

Mac grinned, "It helps to have the Ambassador to Bacovia translating. He's very charming."

"Better not be too charming," Harm growled, "You're taken."

"My caveman," Mac kissed him again, "Don't worry, he's married and old enough to be my father." When Harm looked mollified, she continued a bit more seriously, "The bad news is you have a displaced fracture of the patella and you're going to need surgery. The good news is they can put it back together with wires and you won't need your entire leg in a cast. You'll be on crutches for about eight weeks and a cane after that." When Harm made a face, she raised an eyebrow, "Or they can go the full cast route and you can be in a wheelchair."

Harm backtracked quickly, "Wow, crutches sound wonderful." He eyed her for a moment, "What else? How's Dubby?"

She sighed a little, smiling briefly when Harm found her hand and squeezed it, "He just got out of surgery. The wound was bleeding internally and some infection had started. They cleaned it all out and he's supposed to make a full recovery."

Harm gave her hand another squeeze, "And what about you? You didn't really walk out of this unscathed. How's your head?"

"I'm okay," Mac replied, getting the expected eye-roll from Harm, "Really, nothing was serious. No stitches, no new concussion, I'm just sore in spots." She glanced down at their hands, "And I, um, I can't hear or see anybody again, so I guess I'm back to normal."

Harm eyed her for a moment before letting go of her hand and lifting his arms, "C'mere."

Exhaling softly, Mac leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, being careful of the IV lines. She pulled back after a few seconds, "Thanks, I needed that." Mac straightened up with a sigh, "We have some decisions to make." At Harm's silent inquiring look, she elaborated, "Your surgery. You need to have done soon. Now, they can do it here or they can return us to Bacovia and do it there or," she paused a moment, "You can be evac-ed to Ramstead and have it done there."

Harm frowned a little. While both Romania and Bacovia were probably perfectly capable, they were also unknowns. On the other hand, he'd had first-hand experience on how good Ramstead was. He glanced at Mac whose expression was neutral and frowned a little, "I'd prefer Ramstead."

"I thought you'd say that," Mac was looking down at the bed.

"And - ?" Harm ducked his head a little, trying to see her face.

Mac looked up, "And - I need to go back to Bacovia. Once Dubby's out of Recovery, he can be transported. I can escort him back to Robyn, meet up with Frank and Trish and check in with Bell and Tyler." She hesitated, "And I need to talk to Carol."

Harm sobered, nodding slowly, "That's a good idea." He glanced down, his voice growing quieter, "Mac, I'm pretty sure she was raped." His lips compressed in a thin line as he felt again the guilty rage and helplessness he'd experienced at being unable to protect her.

Mac looked stricken. "You're sure?" she whispered. She'd known it was a distinct possibility but that didn't keep her from hoping.

"No," Harm shook his head, "But that bastard told me he did and Carol shut down right after that." He exhaled slowly, "Shocked the hell out of me when she escaped. At first, I thought she was trying to kill herself."

"What?" Mac's eyebrows rose.

He looked at her ruefully, "I didn't factor in being on horseback. Despite having her hands tied to the saddle, she pivoted her horse and jumped him right off the side of a cliff." Harm smiled at the look on Mac's face, "That's what I said. It was practically vertical. I have no idea how they kept from breaking their necks, but she rode him down to the bottom and took off across the valley." His expression darkened a little, "She was almost out of range when that bastard finally opened fire. I knew she'd been hit even though she stayed on."

Mac nodded, "She took a round in the upper arm. It missed the bone but she'd lost quite a bit of blood by the time we met up with her." She glanced away, her voice growing softer, "You know they thought it was me."

"Hey," Harm reached out and tugged on her hand, "It's not your fault. The only one to blame is that son of a bitch who attacked her. Carol knew right from the start that they thought they had you and played along. I really don't think knowing her true identity would have stopped it from happening. For all we know, it might have been worse. After attacking the coronation party, that guy had to know he had nothing to lose."

Still frowning, Mac shrugged a little, "I guess." She stared down at their clasped hands and sighed, "I still can't believe that lunatic Trask was behind all this. I guess we should have stayed home."

Harm shook his head, "Don't start that. There's no way we could have foreseen this. We both thought he was dead."

"Well, he is now," Mac replied grimly, "And good riddance." She was silent for a few seconds before giving herself a mental shake. Trask was dead and didn't deserve any more of her attention. Straightening up, she gave Harm a semi-stern look, "You know, once you're back on your feet, you so owe me another honeymoon."


	31. Chapter 31

Well, I'm back and I want to sincerely apologize for length of time it's taken to post this. RL hit the fan right after I posted the last chapter and I've been struggling ever since. The fact that everything hit so close to the end of the story made it that much harder to write. I'm also sorry if I worried anyone. I am fine and we were not in the path of any of the tornadoes that went through Missouri. I never completely walked away from this story but there were days when a sentence was all I could manage. Writing wasn't the only casualty, I had to tank most of my fencing season as well.

So here's the next chapter - if it's any consolation, it's twice as long as my usual chapters and I'm hoping to post another within a few days. (BTW, for all who corrected my error about 'Ramstead' to Ramstein, thank you. I usually run a quick research online for any real place I mention and this one time… well, that will teach me to cut corners.) I hope everyone who's still following this enjoys it and again, my apologies.

Chapter 31

Friday,

Kryllstadt Castle

Gronin, Bacovia

1104 Local

Mac trailed behind the gurney holding Gunny Walters. The Romanian doctors had contacted the medical staff at the palace and all had agreed that the facilities at Kryllstadt were more than adequate. It certainly made the logistics easier to deal with. She'd seen Harm off on his flight to Germany before joining Dubby on his trip to Bacovia. Harm's knee operation wasn't scheduled until early evening and Mac was hoping to be there in time. She didn't like the thought that Harm might undergo surgery without her but he'd been insistent about the necessity of talking to Carol, as well as the rest of the Dzurick family. Mac had only offered a token resistance, but she was pretty sure Harm was overestimating the willingness of Carol or Gheorghe to talk to her. This entire debacle could be laid at her and Harm's feet and the Dzuricks would be well within their rights to be angry. Chances were that she'd have to convey her apologies to Mo to pass along. At least it wouldn't take very long. She would see about catching a flight out early in the afternoon.

They'd arrived at Kryllstadt four minutes and eighteen seconds ago. At this particular moment, the only one truly unhappy was Dubby. According to his way of thinking, everyone was fussing way too much over a minor injury. He'd silently made it clear that he thought the Colonel had betrayed him when she sided with the medical staff and made him ride on the gurney. Mac had put up with his attitude knowing that nothing she could say about his hard-headedness would hold a candle to what Robyn would be saying. She figured the Gunny and his wife would probably collide just outside the clinic doors.

Her calculations proved correct as Robyn appeared from another corridor just as they opened the doors. What Mac hadn't counted on was seeing Frank and Trish right behind Robyn. She'd assumed they'd already be on their way to join Harm. Mac stopped and waited, listening as Dubby's placatory 'Now hon - ' was cut off by the doors closing. Trish reached her first, throwing her arms around her daughter-in-law with a fervent 'thank heavens'. She let go immediately when Mac stiffened with a small gasp. Trish stared at her with wide eyes, "Oh dear god, you're hurt! Why didn't you say something? Why aren't they treating you?"

Mac shook her head, her eyes still watering. "It's not that serious," she finally got out, "Just really sore to the touch." Mac had gotten used to the dull ache from the shallow wound that ran from the top of her shoulder down alongside the shoulder blade. The melee with Trask's men had left it bleeding freely afterwards, a fact she'd hardly noticed amid all the other aches and pains. Edgerton had re-bandaged it for her after a look from Harm had stopped Mark dead in his tracks. Later, at the hospital, the Romanian doctor had grumbled something about being late. She hadn't understood him until he'd cleaned and re-dressed the wound without stitching it. Trish had been the first one since then to wrap arms around Mac's shoulders and squeeze.

The Burnetts glanced at each other before eyeing her skeptically. "You did let someone look at you, didn't you, dear?" Trish asked cautiously. Sarah's avoidance techniques could put the CIA to shame. Liz Parker, when she called and told them about their son and daughter-in-law's safe return, had described Mac's injuries as minor. While that was probably true, it was also obvious that Sarah had had a rough time. They could see the yellowing bruise and scabbed over cut on the side of her face and the edge of a bandage peeking out from under the hair on her forehead. Judging from her recent reaction, there were other injuries as well.

Mac nodded while refraining from rolling her eyes. She was honest enough with herself to know she deserved that question. Trish nodded back, "We've been so worried. We only learned a couple of hours ago that you and Harm were safe. After what happened to Lt. Bell - well, you can imagine how anxious... " Trish broke off as Mac stared at her in open-mouthed shock, "Oh no, no one told you?"

"No," Mac inhaled sharply as her gaze shifted from Trish to Frank and back again, "What happened? He's not - ?"

Frank shook his head quickly, "No, he's alive. He was shot and it was pretty serious. Mo Dzurick came by to tell us and took Maggie to the Trauma Center early this morning. We really haven't heard too much since then."

"He's at same hospital as Nicky?" Mac asked intently. Somehow, she needed to get there. Dammit, why didn't someone say something to her earlier? Her eyes widened again as the next thought hit. Was this why she hadn't seen the Dzuricks or any of the palace staff that she knew? "Carol? Is she safe? Where is she? Where's Pick? How the hell did this happen?"

Trish and Frank raised their hands somewhat helplessly, "Carol's at the Trauma Center too, but we don't know - "

"Colonel Rabb?"

Mac turned to see a dark-haired woman standing quietly behind her. She frowned a little in surprise, "Ms. Dasmanov, right?" Mac hadn't crossed paths with Cat's personal assistant very often.

Arina nodded, "Yes ma'am. Her Majesty wishes to speak with you if it's convenient."

Mac glanced at the clinic doors and then at the Burnetts with a growing sense of frustration. She needed to find out what happened, but a royal summons was a royal summons no matter how politely it was offered. Frank nodded, "Go on, we'll go visit with Dubby and Robyn until you get back." They had already made arrangements to fly to Ramstein early this afternoon to be with Harm. Hopefully, they would all be able to travel together.

"Thanks," Mac smiled before stepping in to give Frank a quick peck on the cheek and Trish a careful one-armed hug. "I'll be back soon." Turning, she nodded to Arina and the two women walked up the hallway. After a minute or so, Mac looked over at Arina, "Carol's at the Trauma Center?"

"Yes," Arina nodded, "She found out about Nicky and insisted on seeing him. Liz called afterwards and said that the Queen Mother needed to rest and that she'd be staying there. Her parents, the Princesses Natalya and Christine and, of course, his Highness, Gheorghe, are there, too."

Relieved to hear that nothing else had happened to Carol, Mac decided to step in the other minefield, asking carefully, "How is Cat?"

Arina sighed a little, keeping her voice down, "Pushing herself too hard. You know that she was wounded?"

Mac nodded solemnly, deciding not mention that she was also aware of Gheorghe's actions during the crisis. Apparently everything had been resolved. There was no need to bring up any awkwardness, "Pick - Lt. Tyler - told me. He said it was serious but not life-threatening. I was surprised when Ambassador Iliesca told me about his meeting with her. I'd thought she'd still be in the hospital."

Arina snorted, shaking her head, "Her Majesty doesn't let small things like gunshot wounds stand in the way of her responsibilities."

"Stubborn as hell, huh?" Mac grinned dryly, recalling the events in Lexington when Cat was just a teenager, "I seem to remember that trait. She's just like her mother."

Nodding, Arina stopped for a moment and looked at Mac, "I want to thank you for rescuing the Queen Mother. Losing her would have been devastating for all of us."

Flushing slightly, Mac shook her head, "Carol rescued herself. I just happened to run into her."

"Because you were the only one who knew where to look," Arina countered firmly, beginning to walk again. "Both the Princess Natalya and Her Majesty were unwavering in their faith that you would be able to find the kidnappers." Mac nodded silently, not quite knowing what to say to that. She'd been driven in ways she still couldn't explain to herself - and it had ultimately gotten Dubby and Bell shot. They turned a corner and moved down another long hallway. Neither woman spoke, busy with their own thoughts. Turning yet another corner, Mac saw several Guardsmen further up the corridor and knew they were almost there. As they approached the doorway, one Guard reached over and opened the door for them, nodding at Arina's quiet 'thank you.' Passing through the anteroom, Arina whispered softly, "Queen Margarete hasn't been allowed to travel to the hospital, so she hasn't seen her mother yet."

Mac's eyebrows rose slightly as she muttered, "Thanks for the warning." She waited while Arina tapped quietly on the door to the main room. When it opened, Mac was surprised to see Vlad, one of Marius' security people. He looked equally surprised and shocked her further by giving her a smile. He stepped aside and Arina led the way in. Cat was sitting at an ornate desk, reading a document while Daniel stood at her shoulder, apparently pointing out areas of interest. Both looked up as Arina entered. Smiling immediately, Cat rose to her feet. Daniel, on the other hand, scowled at the interruption and began gathering all the papers and placing them in a leather portfolio.

"Colonel Mac!" Cat moved around the desk, carefully, Mac noted as she stepped forward to greet the young monarch. Cat stopped a few feet away and looked from Arina to Daniel, "Would you excuse us, please?"

Arina nodded with a smile and left quickly. Daniel took a little while longer, predictably grumbling about work needing to be done. To Mac's infinite surprise, however, he paused beside her and said a quiet 'thank you' before striding out of the room. That left Vlad, whose eyes widened in surprise when Cat turned and gazed at him silently. After a moment's clear indecision, he bowed and stepped outside of the door. Cat turned back to Mac, eyeing the older woman carefully. Mac looked back, remembering a similar situation nearly four years ago. She smiled slightly, opening her arms, "It's okay, but take it easy. It's not just me this time around."

Cat couldn't help smiling at the reminder even as her eyes brightened with unshed tears. Stepping into the Colonel's embrace, she finally let herself cry. Mac held on, content to comfort for now. The time for going over all that had happened, as well as what she suspected had happened, would come soon enough.

After a few minutes, Cat pulled away, wiping at the tears. She gave Mac a rueful look, "Uncle Danny will pitch a fit when he sees my face. He says being Queen means no crying, that it undercuts my authority - and makes my face splotchy." Cat grinned slightly as Mac offered her opinion on just what 'Uncle Danny' could do with himself and his observation, "That's what I thought, too." She sighed suddenly, half-turning towards the couch, "Would you mind sitting? I'm afraid my stamina's not where it should be."

"Of course not," Mac shook her head. The two women moved to the couch and gingerly sat down. "We make a fine pair, don't we?" Mac smiled after they'd settled in. "How are you feeling?"

Cat rubbed her temple, closing her eyes for a moment, "Like I've been run over by the proverbial truck - twice." She looked at the JAG officer, "How about you?"

"Well, I wish I'd bought stock in aspirin and ibuprofen years ago - I'd be making myself rich," Mac admitted with a slight grimace as she carefully leaned back. Her expression turned serious, "But it could have been a lot worse." Looking equally serious, Cat nodded her agreement. She straightened, folding her hands in her lap and Mac tensed a little, knowing she would now be speaking officially to Queen Margarete.

The Bacovian monarch didn't waste any time, "Tell me everything, Colonel, starting with the coronation party." Taking a breath, Mac did just that. Twenty-seven minutes later, she finally reached the part about meeting the Romanian military at the border. Mac paused then while Cat stared at her. She'd managed to edit the narrative to exclude the more unbelievable parts without sacrificing the gist of the story. Mac had learned years ago how to separate her emotions from her experiences while being debriefed. This could be considered practice because she knew she'd have to repeat the story to General Cresswell when they got back. The emotional backlash would come later but she didn't fear it as much as she once did. Now she had Harm to lean on.

Cat shook her head slowly. It all sounded horrific and she was amazed that Colonel Mac could speak about it so calmly, "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Will Commander Harm be okay?"

Mac nodded firmly, "Once he's had the surgery, he should be fine. The prognosis is pretty good."

"So you'll be joining him in Germany soon?" Cat asked.

"Soon," Mac nodded again and leaned forward, "But I just heard about Tinker and I need to see him. Do you know what happened?" Once she got herself to the Trauma Center, she'd see if Carol would be willing to talk to her.

Cat absently rubbed her shoulder as she exhaled slowly, "From all the accounts, it came down to miscommunication. Apparently, there was a second group of the kidnappers behind you and they were trying to join up with the ones who had Mom and Commander Harm. Pick and Tink ran into them and got into a firefight. Just as it ended, an advance scout from one of our Army units appeared. He yelled for everyone to stay still, but he said it in Russian. Tink moved to put himself between the scout and my mother and - "

"The scout fired, thinking he was attacking your mom," Mac finished, closing her eyes in frustration. It was perfectly understandable, which was little comfort.

Cat nodded, "Tink's surgeon is confident that he's going to fully recover." She smiled a little, "And, according to Pick, Mom tore strips out of the scout and the lieutenant who showed up with the rest of the patrol a few minutes later." At Mac's confused look, Cat raised an eyebrow, "The lieutenant made the mistake of telling Mom she'd just been rescued."

Mac rolled her eyes. What was it about lieutenants? Gosin apparently wasn't the only young officer in the Bacovian army who spoke before he thought. She felt sorry for their sergeants. Mac was pretty sure she hadn't been that cluelessly arrogant way back when. She looked at Cat, knowing this was the opening she needed to broach a difficult subject. "How is your Mom?"

Cat glanced away, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm not sure. I haven't spoken with her yet," she admitted softly, "but I did talk to Mo. She told me that Pick said - he suspects - " She stopped, unwilling to come right out and say the words.

"There's a good chance he's right," Mac replied gently. She reached out a hand as Cat blanched, "I'm sorry. Harm told me the man who had them bragged about it." Mac hurriedly stood as Cat shot to her feet, staggering slightly. Cat held herself away from the Marine Colonel, looking both horrified and angry. Mac took a cautious step forward, "Cat, honey, I know this is hard but - "

"Hard?" Cat backed up a step, her anger building. "This isn't just 'hard'. Hard was learning my brother had saved my life and nearly died for it! Hard was dragging myself out of a hospital bed to prevent a civil war. Hard has been watching my mother shield us from my father's unpredictable rages for the last four years and not being able to stop it. She didn't deserve what he put her through, and this - this is the reward she gets? Kidnapped, beaten and - and - " Cat was red-faced, gesturing widely with her good arm. Mac let her go, realizing the young woman needed to get this out. At the same time, Mac was struggling between shock and guilt that she hadn't any idea of the problems Carol had been dealing with, despite spending time with the monarch. She suspected Trish had no idea either. Harm's mother held strong opinions about domestic abuse, be it physical or verbal, and would have said something at some point.

"It's not fair," Cat's voice was ragged as she wrapped her arms around herself. Mac stepped closer but Cat pivoted away, wiping at her face, "I know, I know. This and worse happens to women all over the world, every day - hell, every damn minute - but this is my mother... " Her voice dwindled and this time she didn't turn away as Mac embraced her, instead burying her face in the JAG officer's shoulder. After a few seconds, Mac heard Cat's muffled voice say softly, 'I want to see my mom.'

Mac nodded, blinking rapidly, "Then that's what you'll do, sweetie."

Thursday,

Rabb-McGinley Home

Falls Church

2215 Local

"Thank you, Agent Reeves," Matt hung up the phone and looked over to the doorway when he heard footsteps.

Mattie appeared in the opening, staring at him anxiously, "That was the FBI?" She didn't continue, clearly afraid to ask the question she really wanted to know.

Matt eased his leg out in front of him, one hand dropping down to stroke Patch's head, "Special Agent Reeves from the LA office." He smiled reassuringly, "Harm and Sarah are safe. They're in Romania."

Mattie landed with a thump in a nearby chair. Her head dropped into her hands and her shoulders began to shake. Patch made her way over, whining softly as she nudged at Mattie's arm. Matt grabbed his cane as he struggled to his feet and limped over to the teenager. He put a comforting hand on her back, leaning down as best he could, "It's okay, sweetheart. They're okay. They'll be home before you know it." Matt glanced up when Tim McGee appeared in the doorway and gave the young man a smile, "It's over. Harm and Sarah are in Romania. They're safe."

Tim gave a relieved nod. He'd volunteered to take this shift at the Rabbs' home, telling Gibbs - and himself - that he was doing it for Mac. He hadn't told anyone of his contact with Kate Todd's spirit and wasn't planning to. In any case, Abby would probably be the only one who'd even give him the benefit of the doubt. Gibbs still thought whoever was behind the attack on the property would be trying again. Tim wasn't as sure. They had the would-be arsonist and the LA FBI had the guy Trask had contracted to spy on the Rabbs. The man, Letiro, had East Coast connections and, more than likely, had also hired Frankie Delgado. Watching as Matt continued to reassure Mattie, Tim quietly withdrew and continued down the hallway. Reaching the kitchen, he went out the back door, pulling out his phone as he walked down the steps. Punching in the familiar number, he waited for a few seconds, "Boss? The LA FBI just called Mr. O'Hara. Commander and Colonel Rabb are safe in Romania. It's over… well, no, I wasn't suggesting that I leave… right, boss… all night, okay, bye."

Exhaling softly, Tim glanced around while muttering softly, "Brilliant move, McGee." Shaking his head, he decided to make a circuit of the property. Gibbs still believed there was a danger. The fact that the Rabbs were safe only made it more dangerous in Gibbs' book. The window of opportunity was closing rapidly. Tim glanced over his shoulder at the house and said quietly, "I'm going to check the outbuildings if anyone feels like tagging along." Getting nothing but silence in return, Tim flushed a little and headed for the barn. There hadn't been the faintest whisper of anything unexplainable since he'd arrived. He was positive he hadn't been imagining anything but maybe it was a one-time thing.

Tess McGinley looked at her husband, "Well? You aren't planning on leaving him alone, are you? Move along. I'll keep an eye out here."

"I'm going, I'm going," Phin replied a bit testily. He'd much rather have been following the dark-haired woman who'd stayed the night everything had gone to hell and back. This young man kept talking as if he knew they were around but Phin didn't think he could hear or see them. Fortunately, things had been quiet since the brouhaha the other night and there hadn't been much to do. Both he and his wife were waiting anxiously to hear from Kate. Even though the Rabbs hadn't been in residence long, the McGinleys liked having the couple around. The fact that they could communicate with Sarah was just icing on the cake. Phin trailed behind the NCIS agent hoping everyone would be back where they belonged soon.

o o o o o o

Friday,

Gapochka Trauma Center

Toprek, Bacovia

1310 Local

Mac walked with Arina behind Cat and a group of hospital officials that included the chief hospital administrator, the Medical Director and the Chief of Surgery. They'd been standing there waiting for the Queen at the hospital's helipad. If there was one bright spot in this traveling circus, it was that the media was being kept at bay. She'd seen a van lettered with ZNN amid the rest of the local station vehicles. Mac shook her head silently, hoping none of the reporters she knew were there. Her aversion to the press had only intensified over the years. Arina glanced over at her. "Is there something wrong, Colonel?" she whispered.

Chagrined at being caught, Mac shook her head a trifle more decisively, "No, not really." She made a discreet wave towards the crowd surrounding the Queen, redirecting Arina's attention, "Is it always like this when Cat goes out in public?"

Arina nodded with a shrug, "You get used to it after a while." She glanced around as they passed through another set of doors and gave Mac a small smile, "Did you know the Queen Mother was responsible for building this Trauma Center? She rounded up the funding and pushed it through nearly twenty years ago - it's modeled after the Shock Trauma hospital in Baltimore. Who knew she'd be saving her own son's life when she began?"

"That is amazing," Mac agreed, looking around with renewed interest. She'd never been to Shock Trauma but was aware of its existence and its reputation. Their success rate was astonishing. Not long after they turned down another hallway, Mac saw a pair of men standing outside a door. It didn't take a genius to figure out they were security. She tensed a little, readying herself for what was liable to be a contentious meeting with Carol. She was already back on Daniel's bad side after actively supporting Cat when the young woman announced she would be canceling the rest of the day's appointments and making the trip to see her mother and brother.

When they reached the doorway, Cat spoke quietly to the men surrounding her. They bowed slightly and walked away. Cat turned and gestured for Mac to come forward. "This is Pick and Tinker's room," she smiled. "Since it's on the way to Nicky's rooms, I thought we might stop in here first." The Colonel hadn't said anything but Cat knew she was anxious to check on Tink. As Mac stepped up alongside, Cat nodded to the guards. One leaned over and opened the door. El, Maggie and Pick stared in surprise at the two women standing at the threshold. El moved first, smiling happily as she hurried towards them, "Cat! Colonel Mac!"

Cat managed to get a hand up before El flung herself at the JAG officer, "Careful."

El stopped abruptly, looking from one to the other anxiously, "You're hurt, too?"

"Nothing serious but some spots are pretty tender," Mac hastened to reassure the teenager.

El nodded and stepped up to give Mac a very light hug, "Thanks for bringing my Mom home," she whispered.

Mac shook her head uncomfortably, "Thank Pick and Tinker, they're the ones who did it."

El rolled her eyes, reminding Mac that this wasn't a little girl anymore, "I already have and Pick told me what you did. So - thank you." Satisfied when Mac nodded, El turned her attention to her big sister, "Are you okay now? Mo said you weren't allowed to come here before."

"That was this morning," Cat replied in a tone that said she didn't want to discuss it.

As was usual, El sailed right past the warning, putting her hands on her hips, "So you ignored the doctors? Again? You really do need to take care of yourself. Honestly, Cat, what are you trying to prove?"

Cat carefully folded her arms, "Are you going to let us come in or are you just going to block the doorway all afternoon?"

Flushing, El pivoted and waved them in, "Sorry."

Cat led the way, stopping to hug Pick and then Maggie before stopping by Tink's bedside. Mac was soon beside her. The big man appeared to be asleep. Mac looked back at Maggie, whispering softly, "How is he?"

"Much better," Maggie replied with a relieved smile. "He was awake for a few minutes about a half hour ago."

Mac smiled in relief as well before turning her attention to Pick, "What about you?"

"I'm good, ma'am." Pick rolled his eyes when both Maggie and El snorted.

Mac raised an eyebrow at their reaction and frowned slightly, straightening up, "Lt. Tyler?"

Pick stiffened for a second before smiling easily, "Ma'am, it's a very, very minor concussion and a little, bitty headache - hardly worth mentioning. Now if you really want to talk about headaches, my Uncle Rowdy, on my mama's side, once walked into an emergency room with a ten-penny nail stuck in his head… "

"Oh god, I've died and gone to Hell. " A deep bass voice rumbled faintly.

Startled, Mac spun back towards the bed, hissing a little as the movement pulled at the healing shoulder wound. She forgot about it and smiled when she saw Bell was awake, "Tink!"

"Good to see you, ma'am, Your Majesty," His voice was still weak but Tink managed to raise a hand towards Maggie who grabbed it with both of hers. "Is Commander Rabb - ?"

"Safe," Mac assured him. "And Trask is really dead this time. It's over."

Tink nodded slowly before rolling an eye towards Pick, "Don't you have any normal relatives?"

Pick looked indignant, "They're normal. They're just - adventuresome."

"They're mental," Tink countered, before looking back at the Colonel and Cat. "He made me listen all the way back."

"All right you two, that's enough," Maggie put her hands on her hips, eyeing the men sternly. "Honestly, what kind of example are you going to be setting for the baby if you keep acting like this?"

There was a few moments of stunned silence. Tink's mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he managed a baritone squeak, "Baby? You - we're - I'm gonna be a father?" Maggie nodded happily as she leaned in to kiss him. El let out an excited whoop and wrapped her arms around Maggie as soon as the woman straightened up. Mac was pretty sure if Tink hadn't already been laying down, this would have flattened him.

"I'm gonna be an uncle," Pick said faintly, sinking slowly onto the other bed.

"When did - ?" Tink still looked flabbergasted.

Maggie glanced over at Cat and Mac, one arm wrapped around El while still holding Tink's hand with the other, "I found out the morning of the coronation. Remember when I stopped by the palace clinic the day before because I'd been feeling out of sorts most of the week?" She shrugged helplessly, "I was going to tell you that night after the party."

Mac suddenly looked stricken, "Oh Maggie, I'm so sorry - "

Maggie shook her head firmly, "Don't you dare. I was there, remember? Tom's a Marine and I knew he couldn't stay behind. I'd heard the stories about that horrible, evil man. Besides, what would have happened to Carol if he hadn't been there? It was meant to be - that's all, and now everything's going to be fine."

Mac and Cat stayed a while longer. After congratulating the couple, Mac took Pick aside and got a quick overview of what had happened after she'd sent them back with Carol. Finally, Cat and Mac excused themselves. Back in corridor, the two women resumed walking, both deep in thought. Arina trailed behind, wondering about this latest change. A few minutes later, they reached Nicky's rooms. The guards bowed as Cat approached. One opened the door for her, announcing 'Her Majesty, the Queen' in a rich baritone. Mac and Arina held back as Cat swept into the room.

Arina took the opportunity to address the JAG officer. "Is everything all right, Colonel? You and Her Majesty seemed... preoccupied. Lt. Bell is going to recover, isn't he?"

Mac gave her a startled look, "Yes, he is. Everything's fine - better than fine, actually. Lt. Bell and his wife are going to be parents."

"That's wonderful," Arina smiled before tilting her head slightly, "Isn't it?"

"It is," Mac assured her, doing her best to give a genuine smile. She really was happy for Tink and Maggie. What she hadn't been prepared for was the wave of sadness that had suddenly engulfed her. She wished Harm was here with her right now.

"Well, your turn will come, too." Arina studied the other woman for a moment or two. The Rabbs had married a bit later in life, "That is, assuming you and your husband are planning on children -?"

Mac glanced away, "We are. We're hoping to foster some children and eventually adopt." She looked back at Arina and gave a half-hearted shrug, "I can't have children." She wasn't sure why she added that, although saying the words out loud didn't hurt as badly as it had when she'd first learned of her condition. Maybe she was finally beginning to accept it.

"I'm sorry," Arina was quietly sympathetic without being mawkish.

Mac was starting to see why Cat valued her assistant. She frowned thoughtfully, "How are you holding up? None of this could have been easy for you either."

"It wasn't, but I'll survive," Arina smiled disarmingly. "Thank you for asking."

Mac added circumspect to the list of Arina's qualities. She was about to press a little further when Mo appeared in the doorway. The young woman hurried towards her. Knowing how enthusiastic the Dzurick kids' greetings tended to be, Mac attempted to slow her down a little, "Take it easy. I feel like I've been through the tumble-dry cycle." When Mo hesitated, Mac smiled reassuringly and opened her arms.

The princess stepped up and carefully hugged Mac, "I was so worried about you and Commander Harm. Thank you for saving Mom."

Catching Arina's eye, Mac just nodded, resigned to receiving credit for something Carol had managed on her own, "I'm sorry all this happened."

Mo pulled back, looking closely at the JAG officer, "Me, too, but don't you dare feel guilty because of some lunatic's actions. It's not your fault or Commander Harm's." She changed gears before Mac could respond, "Would you mind coming in? Mom wants to see you."

Mac tensed and nodded, bracing herself. Carol was one to whom she truly owed an apology.

o o o o o o

Taking a breath as the Guardsman opened the door and announced her, Cat gathered herself and walked into the room. She desperately wanted to see her mother and Nicky, didn't really want to see her father and hoped to keep her grandparents from realizing there was any sort of rift in the family. Clearing the doorway, she paused for a moment taking in the scene in nearly a carbon copy of her mother's entrance earlier. Nicky looked to be sleeping peacefully, the monitors emitting softly reassuring, rhythmic beeps. Her father and grandfather were sitting on either side of his bed. An additional bed had been set up in the adjacent sitting area. Her mother was propped up by pillows while Mo and Grandma Harley sat by her side. Cat's breath caught a little. Her mother looked like she'd gone a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson and Cat knew from her conversation with Colonel Mac that the visible marks weren't the worst of it. Her father shifted in his chair and Cat glanced his way, stiffening.

Carol straightened up when she heard the guard announce Cat's arrival and watched as her daughter came to a halt just inside the door. Cat's expression didn't give anything away but Carol could tell she was tense and worried. She frowned a little when she realized Gheorghe and Cat were eyeing each other warily. What was going on? Carol cleared her throat. "Cat?" she asked as Mo stood up and moved towards her twin.

Carol's voice broke the tableau between Cat and her father. She turned just as Mo reached her side. Seeing the look on her sister's face, Cat shook her head, "I'm fine." Her mouth compressed in a thin line when Mo gave an unladylike snort. Swallowing her irritation, Cat spoke quietly, "Colonel Mac is with me. She's waiting in the outer room with Arina." As she hoped, that diverted Mo's attention.

"She's here? Is she alright? Where's Commander Harm?" Mo rattled off, staring from her sister to the doorway.

"Yes. Yes. On his way to Ramstein. I want to talk to Mom," Cat stepped around Mo and walked over to Carol's bed, giving her grandmother a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting. Mo took one more look at the doorway and then followed her twin back to the bedside. She needed to ask her mother before inviting Colonel Mac in. She knew that her mom was aware her ordeal had been due to mistaken identity. What Mo didn't know was how her mother felt about it. They hadn't had any real conversations as yet because Mom had been asleep a good deal of the time. Did she blame the Colonel? Would she want to see her?

Carol watched as her eldest perched on the side of the bed. The two regarded each other silently before Cat carefully leaned forward, stretching out an arm to embrace her mother. "Oh Mom," she whispered tearfully, "I was so scared for you."

"Are you alright?" Carol asked in return, awkwardly patting Cat with her casted hand. She could barely lift her other arm. Neither of those injuries affected her eyesight, however, and she didn't like what she was seeing. Carol frowned slightly, "How much have you been doing? You look exhausted."

"I'm okay," Cat replied, lifting her good shoulder in a small shrug and letting it fall again. She reached out and lightly touched the cast on her mother's hand, "How are you?"

"Fine," Carol responded automatically, "Just worried about you and Nicky."

"That's enough!" Harley snapped quietly, earning herself startled looks from Carol, Mo and Cat. She pointed a finger at Carol, "You are most definitely not fine." The finger swung to Cat, "And neither are you, so just stop it." Harley glared at her daughter, "I birthed you so I know you're not from Krypton. Stop acting like you are." She glared at her granddaughter next, "And this is one facet of your mother's personality you didn't need in your DNA." She threw up her hands, "Honestly, we all love you both and no one's going to think less of you for admitting what everyone can see."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Carol looked at Cat and raised an eyebrow, "Well, I feel like crap. How about you?"

Cat stared at her mother, torn between shock and laughter. A poorly contained snort from Mo tipped the balance and Cat covered her mouth in a vain attempt to contain her laughter. Harley held out for a few seconds before she shook her head and began to chuckle. After the laughter ran its course, Mo took the opportunity to address her mother, "Mom, Colonel Mac is waiting outside. Would you like to see her?"

Carol looked at her daughter in surprise, "Sarah's here? Where's Harm?"

"He's on his way to Ramstein for knee surgery," Cat offered. "Colonel Mac wanted to see Lt. Bell and you before she joined Commander Harm."

Mo stood up, "Shall I get her?"

Carol nodded slowly, "Yes, please." She couldn't help shifting uncomfortably. Sarah probably already knew more than Carol was ready to tell. She glanced towards Cat who was watching Mo leave to get Sarah. How much did she know?

o o o o o

Gheorghe watched silently as the women of his family gathered together in support of each other. After their initial meeting, Carol had retreated from him. It had hurt, but any thoughts of forcing the issue were abandoned in the face of Liz and Harley's united front. It was obvious they had no intention of letting him approach Carol unless she asked. So far, she hadn't. Then Mo had arrived early in the morning and taken over for the exhausted Liz. She had greeted him warmly enough but there was a reticence there that told him she was more in her sister's camp than his own. So far, El seemed to be the only daughter who had forgiven him without reservation. Cat's reaction when she finally made an appearance let him know that she was far from being that magnanimous. The way she'd dismissed him from her thoughts when Mo approached had rankled and he'd stiffened in annoyance. A soft grunt from Gus then caught his attention and when he'd looked over, the old man had given him a warning look. Finding himself without any allies, Gheorghe resigned himself to keeping an eye on Nicky and watching his wife and daughters from a distance. Regaining his place in the family was not going to be easy.

o o o o o

Mac followed Mo into the main room. She nodded and smiled at Gheorghe and Gus before turning her attention to Carol. Walking up to the bed, Mac greeted Harley before stopping next to Cat. Turning to Carol, Mac smiled again, "You're looking much better." She did, although the bruising around her face was taking on more vivid hues. The last time Mac had seen her, the former Queen had been a battered and bloodied mess.

Carol tipped her head to the side, looking up at the JAG officer, "I'm feeling better, but you look like you've been on the wrong end of an argument."

"I was," Mac agreed ruefully. She sat down in Mo's chair when Harley patted the seat in invitation. While talking with Arina, she'd been considering how to best approach the former Queen. Mac figured there was no way Carol would admit to anything in front of her daughters. If their positions had been reversed, she'd feel the same way about saying anything in front of Mattie. By the time Mo asked her to come in, Mac had decided the safest course would be to play it by ear and let Carol set the tone. She'd just have to find a way to get some private time together. Meanwhile, Mac had a feeling Carol would have the same low threshold for sympathy and pity that she did, so she kept both out of her voice, "How long before they spring you from this joint?"

Carol huffed a little, glancing at her mother and daughters, "I'm not sure. No one's bothering to talk to me about it."

Mac rolled her eyes, "I hear you. Harm's like that, too. If he had his way, I'd probably have to list Bethesda as my place of residence." She gestured towards Carol's arm wound, "How's that doing?"

"Hurts like hell," Carol admitted with a slight grimace as she lifted it slightly. Sarah's matter-of-fact attitude was refreshing. Everyone else was tiptoeing around her like they expected her to break at any moment. She understood why but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.

"Yeah, I'll bet. Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it," Mac shook her head in commiseration. "Wait 'til the therapists get hold of you. Then the real fun begins."

"I can hardly wait," Carol replied dryly. She lifted the broken hand, "No surgery on this, though. The orthopedist thinks I'll regain nearly full use." She made a face, "Damned inconvenient for now. Can't lift one hand, can't grip with the other; I can't even feed myself."

"That is annoying," Mac agreed. She grinned a moment later, "Maybe you could duct-tape a fork or a spoon to your cast."

Carol chuckled, "Now there's a thought. I'll bet Maintenance could come up with a handle so I could change implements around."

Mac raised an eyebrow, "Made from gold and suitably encrusted with gems, of course, as befitting your royal-ness."

"Well, of course. I have standards, you know." Carol laughed out loud and then winced, "Ow - damn, stop making me laugh."

"No promises," Mac retorted with a grin. "By the way, did Cat tell you that Tink and Maggie are having a baby?"

"Really? That's wonderful," Carol exclaimed. "I'll bet they're thrilled."

Mac nodded, "They are, although it was probably a good thing Tink was in bed or we would have had to get a crane to lift him off the floor. Pick's nearly as thrilled as they are." Around Carol's bedside, Harley and the twins listened in quiet astonishment. This was the closest Carol had sounded to normal since her return.

Carol grinned at the JAG officer. Those two young men were beginning to feel like her own kids. She glanced at Mo, wondering how long it would take Pick to get back on track and pop the question. She hated to think she might be the cause of his delay. Perhaps she should drop in and nudge the idea along. Of course, first, she had to escape from this bed. She turned an appraising eye on Sarah, figuring the Marine Colonel would be a willing accomplice, "I think I'd like to go congratulate them. Would you mind giving me a hand?" Getting out would also give her the opportunity to ask Sarah to apologize to Harm for abandoning him to the kidnappers - without having to get into long explanations with her family. Carol was hoping that Sarah's cheerful attitude meant that Harm wasn't angry or disappointed with her but she still needed to say the words.

While Mac regarded Carol thoughtfully, Harley discreetly hushed Cat and Mo's knee-jerk protests. The older woman had been aware of the connection between her daughter and the Marine colonel since the events in Lexington. They were remarkably similar. Unlike the lifelong bonds of friendship that Carol and Liz shared, her daughter and Sarah's friendship had been forged in fire. Harley knew the Colonel could approach Carol in ways that Liz wouldn't consider. If Sarah could breach the walls Carol was already erecting, then Harley would make sure she had the chance. She smiled brightly from Mac to Carol, "That's sounds like a wonderful idea. I think a little fresh air would do you good, too."

Mac caught the brief look Harley shot her way and gave a minute nod even as her stomach clenched a little. The conversation she was dreading was going to happen sooner than she'd thought. Meanwhile, Carol was regarding Harley in surprised trepidation. She'd expected more of a fight. That she wasn't getting one might mean that her mother knew more of her ordeal than she was willing to talk about. It was disturbing.

Once Harley had approved, it didn't take long to make Carol presentable for public appearance. Mac sat back and watched in bemusement as the twins and Harley worked in concert. Mo did Carol's hair, Cat handled a light covering makeup while Harley, with Arina's help, scrounged up a nice robe and comfortable shoes. Twenty minutes later, Mac left with Carol riding in a wheelchair. The only one who hadn't smiled as they exited was Gheorghe. After learning Carol's plans, he'd started to invite himself along. Mac hadn't said anything, not feeling it was her place, even though she could see Carol tense when he spoke. Harley and Gus had headed him off with an impressive display of teamwork.

With security teams ahead and behind, they moved quietly down the hallway. After a minute or so, Carol sighed, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Mac shrugged, keeping her voice noncommittal, "Every couple hits some rough spots. You should have heard some of the arguments Harm and I have had over the years."

Carol continued looking straight ahead, "How much do you know?"

"Not that much," Mac replied carefully. "Gheoghe has had some issues since Lexington and you've been taking the brunt of it." She shook her head, "I'm sorry. I feel like I've let you down. I had no idea."

"You weren't supposed to," Carol's shoulders were rigid with tension.

Mac backed off. This was not a conversation for a hospital hallway. Spotting a small atrium, she headed for it. It would give them a little privacy. Mac nodded her thanks as one of the security men opened the door for her. Once inside, Mac parked Carol next to a bench and sat down. The two women sat in silence for a few minutes. Mac looked around the atrium before venturing quietly, "This is lovely." After getting a silent nod from Carol, she gazed around a bit more, "Ms. Dasmanov told me that you were responsible for building this hospital."

Carol shrugged, gazing down at the cast on her hand, "Years and years ago when I was riding for the Olympic team, a good friend of mine from Germany took a horrible spill. The competition was in Maryland and they airlifted her to Shock Trauma. I was sure she was dying and they went and saved her life. She never rode again but she lived." Carol gazed around the atrium for a second or two before smiling a little at Mac, "She's a grandmother now - twice. That incident stayed with me and when Geordie assumed the throne, I convinced him that Bacovia should have a facility like that." She sighed, gesturing with the broken hand, "He agreed and here we are. I never guessed..." her voice dwindled off.

Mac braced herself, figuring it was time, "Carol, I don't even know to begin to apologize for everything that's happened to your family - and you. I'm so sorry." She looked down at her lap, unable to look the other woman in the eye, "I know they thought they had me."

"I knew that and I let them keep thinking it," Carol said quietly. "I was afraid they would kill me if they knew who they really had. It isn't your fault. It was my decision."

Folding her hands, Mac took a deep breath and looked at the former Queen, "Harm told me what happened."

Carol glanced away, stiffening. After a moment, she said quietly, "I wasn't raped." She looked at Mac, frowning at the look on the JAG officer's face, "I wasn't." She looked away again, anger finally beginning to show, "He... " Dammit, why was it so hard to say? She struggled out of the wheelchair and stood there, swaying slightly, "That son of a bitch... he hit me and pinned me against the building. The pain from my hand - I couldn't see straight and he put that rope around my neck and started tightening it... "

Mac rose carefully to her feet, "Carol - "

Carol backed up a step, shaking her head, "You don't understand. I couldn't get enough air, everything was spinning and then... the pain went away and his hands - " Tears were beginning to trail down her face. Mac inched forward a little, appalled at what she was hearing. Carol took a ragged breath and glared at Mac, "It was the most incredible sensation - I didn't want it to stop - ever. Then I could breathe again and I suddenly realized where I was and where his hands were and... oh god." Carol turned away, hunching her shoulders.

Mac crept closer, raising a hand to lightly touch Carol's back. The former Queen flinched away. Mac kept her hand up and tried again. This time Carol held her ground although Mac could feel her shaking. Easing up to her, Mac carefully wrapped her arms around the distraught woman. Carol tensed before turning around and burying her face in Mac's shoulder. They stayed like that for a little while and then Carol began speaking again.

"He laughed at me after he was done. Told me the real ecstasy would happen that night," Carol stopped again and Mac waited uneasily, knowing she wasn't done. There was a few moments of silence before Carol abruptly pushed herself away. "I stood there - just like…god, I'm so damn pathetic," she stood there with her arms loosely wrapped around herself, staring at the ground.

Mac shook her head, "No, you're not. You need to give yourself a break."

Carol's head came up, angry once again, "Do I?" She interrupted herself to chuckled mirthlessly, "Want to hear something funny?" She paused, glaring at Mac before looking away, "The first time he hit me, I was shocked that he'd even dare touch me. I'm supposed to be royalty, after all. How's that for monumental ego?" Carol shook her head, her voice bitter, "God save the Queen."

"Stop it," Mac drew herself up, smothering a wince as her expression turned fierce, "You were in a terrible situation completely outside the realm of your experience and you survived. You think the way you did it matters one iota to your family? Or your friends? What's really important is that you're here and still standing. That's more than anyone can say about that miserable son of a bitch that took you and Harm. Dubby put a round through that bastard's head and now he's nothing more than carrion in Tchort's Forest. I doubt anyone will miss him." Carol stared at her for a long moment and Mac could almost see her compartmentalizing what she'd been through. It didn't bother Mac. She had done much the same on occasion. It was a way to survive. Grimly, she waited for the next topic.

"You went into Tchort's Forest?" Carol finally asked. She started to lower herself back into the wheelchair and Mac stepped forward to give her a hand.

"Not happily, believe me," Mac nodded reluctantly, "but that's the way the kidnappers went, so we didn't have a choice." She shivered a little, in spite of herself, "God willing, I'll never set foot in it again. That place is evil."

Carol eyed Mac, her expression unreadable, "It has a terrible reputation. Not many have made it to the other side." She looked down at her hands for a few seconds before determinedly meeting Mac's eyes, "Would you apologize to Harm for me?" Her gaze faltered and slipped away, "When Mr. Tarchevsky told me where we were and then offered me a way out, I didn't even think about what might happen to Harm, I just ran. I'm so sorry."

Mac shook her head, "No, please, it's not necessary. Harm was relieved when you escaped." Her expression turned wry, "After he got over the shock, of course. You rode off a cliff?"

"A steep hillside." Carol shrugged, "I had a very good horse." She looked at Mac again, "They didn't blame him for what I did?"

"No," Mac shook her head, sounding more sure than she felt. Harm hadn't actually said anything about how the kidnappers had reacted afterwards. "I don't think they dared, really. Trask wanted Harm for himself."

Carol gave her a long look, "But he didn't want you?"

Mac shifted uncomfortably, not eager to relive what she'd gone through so recently. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out what her fate was to have been. She settled for shaking her head, "No. He blamed Harm for losing the use of his legs."

Carol sighed, gazing around the atrium again before looking back, "But you were facing something unimaginably horrible and I'm going to guess you fought them every step of the way. That's what you do." When Mac didn't say anything, Carol fell silent as well, her shoulders slumped, "I don't know what to do."

"About what?" Mac asked cautiously.

"Everything. I don't know," Carol grimaced as she shifted her seat a little. She wasn't sure how to explain. Sarah's life had been far from ideal but the woman hadn't let it beat her. Could she understand someone who merely had the illusion of such strength? Lately, Carol's own life felt like an avalanche. The unraveling had started out slowly after the debacle with Valter but in the last year or so, had picked up a frightening momentum. While Gheorghe had been convalescing, it'd been easy to dismiss or overlook the fits of temper. She and Cat had been busy overseeing the governing of Bacovia, and while she'd never been hands-off regarding the monarchy, it had been surprisingly satisfying working with the political parties. After Geordie had physically recovered, she'd found herself still being sought out by various politicians. Prior to the shooting, she would have assumed they thought her the weaker link and were trying to do an end-run around Gheorghe but the fact of the matter was that her husband had changed - and not for the better. They were coming to her because they knew she would listen and wasn't adverse to compromise.

When Gheorghe finally announced his decision to abdicate when Cat reached her majority, it had been a bittersweet moment for Carol. She was enormously proud of her daughter. Cat had been taking on more and more responsibilities and even Daniel was impressed with her abilities. On the other hand, Carol couldn't help the disappointment she also felt. She was a woman in her prime, she'd been more active than ever and now she'd be forced to retire along with her husband. She'd made the best of it, pinning her hopes on the idea that Gheorghe would return to the man he'd been before the shooting once the stress of leadership was gone. For a time, it seemed to be true. Knowing an end was in sight, her Geordie returned and everything was good. Unfortunately, it hadn't lasted. The episode with that psycho Congresswoman in North Carolina had started him off again. This last year had been bad. Gheorghe's temper had flared more and more often. Carol made sure she was the focus, rather than any of the kids. He always apologized afterwards but the words he directed at her during these explosions of temper hurt terribly. Bit by bit, he'd chipped away at her self-esteem until it felt like all she had left was the hollow shell of the strong woman she'd thought she'd been.

This ordeal had made her face her shortcomings in the most traumatic way possible and left her adrift. She was never immune to fear but had always been able to control and use it to her advantage, whether facing a daunting Olympic-level course or pulling the trigger on the man who had shot her husband. Now fear had the upper hand, leaving her feeling even more powerless and insignificant. She could still pull off the facade of her former self - god knew she'd had enough practice at it these last few years - but it was growing thinner all the time. Carol was fairly certain that Liz and Cat knew the truth. Neither one ever betrayed that knowledge and Carol had been grateful for any and all favors that let her maintain the aura of control. It was water under the bridge now. If they didn't already, soon everyone with access to the official reports would know how shamefully she'd behaved. What hurt the most was the loss of the man who'd always been her rock. She didn't trust this new incarnation of her husband, never knowing when his temper would explode and another verbal assault would be launched. While she'd shied away from divorce while he was on the throne, now might be the time. She dreaded what he could do with this latest failure of hers.

Mac watched her friend worriedly. She knew what it was like to feel scared and insignificant. Her father had left her that legacy to deal with and it had taken years upon years to learn how to overcome it. In a number of ways, what Carol faced was worse. Her sense of self had taken a beating more severe than what she'd endured physically and she didn't have the coping mechanisms that Mac had learned from childhood on.

"I'm thinking about divorce," Carol said quietly. "I don't think I can take anymore, not now."

"I'm sorry," Mac answered automatically, feeling shocked. Carol and Gheorghe had always seemed so happy together. "Are you sure?" It was an inane question but Mac couldn't help asking.

Carol gave her a look before glancing away, "No, but then, I'm not sure about anything anymore."

"Do me a favor. Go home before you decide anything," Mac said suddenly, remembering what Avis had said. When Carol stared at her, she nodded while trying to decide how much to say, "Go back to your roots - back to Kentucky."

"I don't see how - ," Carol was shaking her head.

Mac leaned forward, "You're doubting everything you are and you shouldn't. Go home. It will help." When Carol continued to look uncertain, Mac glanced around and took a deep breath, "Carol, I saw you." When Carol gave her a confused look, she repeated softly, "Before we found you on the trail, I saw you. You were lost, riding a horse in the distance. You need to go home."

Carol's eyes widened as she realized what Sarah was saying. After a few seconds, she nodded slowly, "Alright."

Mac smiled and stood up, feeling lighter, "Good, now let's go congratulate Tink and Maggie."

"And tell Pick to get off the dime and propose to Mo." Carol chuckled at the look of surprise on Sarah's face. The decision to go back to Kentucky felt right. That had to be a good sign.


	32. Chapter 32

Did I say a few days? Apparently I meant a few weeks. What I thought was the light at the end of long tunnel of work turned out to be the headlamp of an oncoming train. From the day I posted the last chapter until now, I haven't had a day off. It's nice to be wanted but I think my head's fried…

Yesterday, I managed to get the work down to a manageable level and I'm now taking the next five days off to putter around the house, hack through the weeds that currently resemble deepest, darkest Africa, put the gravel driveway back where it's supposed to be after the last gully-washing rain, fix the roof of my barn, take down a tree or two, powerwash the house, paint the porch, fix a couple of gates - and post this chapter. In other words, take a much-needed break.

Can't quite seem to find the final end of this story but I'm hoping it's almost there. As always, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 32

Friday,

Landstuhl Regional Medical Center

Landstuhl, Germany

1840 Local

Mac strode tiredly down the corridor, intent upon her goal. She'd missed the flight with the Burnetts but Cat had graciously arranged transport with one of her military's spotter planes. Although it was a brand-new four-seater fixed gear Cessna, Mac had approached it with trepidation, courtesy of her history with small planes. The pilot, a jovial Master Sergeant by the name of Aleksel Komarov, had been more than a little solicitous of her comfort. It didn't take long to realize that he was also crediting her with Carol's rescue. Obviously the non-com information pipeline in the Bacovian military was just as fast as it was in the US. For once, Mac didn't try to demur. Harm had inadvertently turned her into a white-knuckle flyer in any plane smaller than a commercial airliner. Anything that distracted her was more than welcome. When Sergeant Komarov realized she was fluent in Russian, he happily launched into a number of stories that had her laughing heartily. He was a good pilot as well as an excellent storyteller and before Mac knew it, they were landing at Ramstein. Thanks to the American Ambassador, the Ramstein personnel were expecting her and had transportation waiting to take her to Landstuhl.

Finding the room she was seeking, Mac tapped lightly on the door before opening it quietly. Harm appeared to be asleep, his knee elevated and heavily wrapped. Trish and Frank had risen upon seeing her and walked over to exchange careful hugs. Trish eyed Mac and frowned softly, "You look exhausted."

She felt exhausted but that didn't stop her from moving to Harm's bedside. "How is he?" she whispered.

Frank smiled, "The operation went well. Once the swelling goes down, they'll fit him with a brace and get him on his feet. The sooner they can get him moving, the less chance he'll have of developing arthritis in the knee. He was awake a little while ago."

"That's great," Mac smiled happily. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Ironically, it left her swaying with weariness. Trish and Frank were quick to notice.

Frank slid a hand under her elbow and directed her to one of the chairs by the bedside. "When was the last time you had anything to eat?" he asked quietly.

Mac shook her head. She'd passed hungry a while ago. There simply hadn't been time at first and then later, she'd been leery of eating anything before climbing into that small plane. Trish tsked under her breath, looking at Frank. He nodded, "I'll go down to the cafeteria and grab some sandwiches. Be right back." Mac was content to sit quietly with Trish while waiting for Frank. She knew the Burnetts would be interested to hear what she'd learned in Bacovia and it wouldn't be fair to start without Frank. He was back soon enough and Mac dug in, feeling ravenous. She was halfway through her second sandwich when she heard the welcome sound of Harm's voice.

Hurriedly chewing and swallowing a mouthful, Mac climbed to her feet to join Trish and Frank by Harm's bedside. He smiled when he saw her and then slowly raised an eyebrow at the sandwich she was holding, "I've fallen below hospital food? That hurts, Marine."

"Well, it is pastrami on rye," Mac retorted, smiling back. She leaned in to give him a kiss, "Mustard tipped the scale, but you were a close second."

"I brought her the sandwiches, Harm," Frank said mildly. "She hadn't eaten in a while."

Harm patted the side of the bed and Mac obligingly sat down, taking another large bite out of the sandwich. He rolled his eyes at her and looked at his parents, "You do realize that once you've fed a Marine, they'll keep following you around, looking for more?"

Trish shook her head while Frank chuckled, "I'll take that risk."

Mac heaved an exaggerated sigh, "Don't quit your day job, funny man." She turned a little more serious, "How's the knee?"

Harm clasped his hands behind his head, "Great for now, I can't feel it yet."

"The doctor said they'll have him up and around by tomorrow," Trish added with a smile, "and if he does as well as they hope, they'll clear him to travel by Sunday."

"So we can go home." Harm looked over at Mac, "We can, right? Marius hasn't said anything about needing us to stay, has he?"

Mac shook her head, "I didn't even see him but I don't think so. Neither Cat nor Daniel mentioned it when I talked to them."

Harm eyed her, "So you talked to everyone? How'd that go?"

"Could have been better," Mac shrugged uncomfortably. "Things are still tense between Gheorghe and Cat." At the surprised looks from Harm and the Burnetts, Mac sighed, "It's a long story." After giving everyone a chance to settle, she launched into her recital, starting with the attack during the coronation party and ending with her and Carol's conversation at the Trauma Center. She didn't go straight through the story. Harm, Trish and Frank added their parts as well. It was the first time Mac had heard everything in context. She was beginning to see just how lucky they'd all been. Events could have turned out much worse. Mac refrained from mentioning Avis and Kate and so did Harm. They both glossed over their time with Trask until they got to the rescue by Edgerton, Mark and Dubby. Mac also left out the part about Carol considering divorce. Hopefully it wouldn't come to pass. Despite all the hell he'd put her through, Mac suspected Gheorghe still loved his wife.

When she finally finished, Trish sat back in her chair, "That's wonderful news about Tom and Maggie, but poor Carol! I had no idea. The Dzuricks always seemed like the perfect couple. Is he going to get help?"

Mac could only shake her head, "I don't know but I hope so. Carol's kidnapping was definitely a wake-up call for him. I don't think he truly realized what it would be like to lose her." She sighed a little, "I can understand why Gheorghe reacted the way he did when Carol was missing but it turned out to be the final straw between him and Cat. She's really angry with him. I think she has been for a while now."

"How's Carol dealing with all this?" Harm asked, feeling as disturbed as his parents about what had been happening with the Dzuricks. Carol's behavior while in the hands of the kidnappers made a little more sense now.

"I think she's going to go back to Kentucky with her parents for a while - get away from things for a bit and recover," Mac answered carefully. "Hopefully, she'll be able to get herself back on an even keel. I hate seeing her like this."

A brief silence fell before Trish glanced around, "Has anyone thought to call Mattie and Matthew?" At the looks on Mac and Harm's faces, she shook her head ruefully, "We didn't either. At first, we didn't want to upset them and then everything got so hectic." She reached for her purse, fishing out her cellphone, "That's no excuse, of course. I'll call them now." Trish glanced over at Mac, "What time is it there, dear?"

"They're six hours behind us, so it's 1:18 in the afternoon over there," Mac answered promptly, sharing a look with Harm. This was not going to be an easy phone call.

They watched and waited as Trish punched in the number on her speed-dial. Trish sat listening and then broke out in a smile, "Mattie, darling, it's Grandma Trish... I'm fine, dear... yes, we're all here... so you know... darling, slow down. Why don't you find Matthew and I'll put this on speaker so we can all chat?... wonderful, thank you... yes, of course we'll wait." Pulling the phone away from her ear, Trish pushed a button and placed it on Harm's bedside table.

"She knows what happened?" Harm asked, frowning slightly. "Who told her?"

"The FBI," Mac said suddenly, "Either Don or Megan. Remember? They found out about Trask before everyone and tried to warn us." A worried look flitted across her face, "Oh Harm, you don't think Trask tried to get to them, too, do you?"

He rested a reassuring hand on her back, "If he did, he obviously failed. I'm sure everything's fine." Harm looked over at his mother, "Mattie sounded okay, didn't she?"

"Excited and a little anxious," Trish replied, "which is perfectly understandable, all things considered."

o o o o o o

Friday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

1405 Local

"Bye everyone. Love you," Mattie reached over and ended the call. She looked at Matt, "You didn't tell them about the arsonist."

Matt rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over at Officer David standing silently in the doorway. Gibbs had insisted on a protection detail until Harm and Sarah returned. How he was justifying the expense was anybody's guess but Matt was happy for the help. He'd never met a beautiful woman as deadly as Ziva was. Incongruously, she currently had Purrl Bailey tucked in an arm. The kitten stuck to her like glue when she was in the house and the agent had decided carrying Purrl was easier than tripping over her. That was what she said, although Matt suspected that she was also rather fond of the kitten.

"Uncle Matt?"

Chagrined at letting his thoughts wander, Matt turned back to Mattie, "It's over and done with. Sarah and Harm have enough to deal with without worrying about us right now. Once they're home, we can tell them."

He glanced at Ziva and the woman nodded, "I will let Gibbs know they will be home on Sunday."

"Thank you," Matt looked over at Mattie, "And we have some work to do. Ready to learn how to drive a tractor?" With the wound to his leg, Matt didn't think he could handle the clutch and brakes. Earlier in the week, he'd found a good deal on a mower attachment. They'd delivered it this morning. Just in time, in his opinion; if the grass had gotten any taller, they could have baled it.

Mattie bounced up, looking excited, "Sure, let me get my boots on." She hurried out of the room.

Matt got up a bit more slowly, reaching for his cane. His leg hurt more today than it had yesterday. Going by prior experience, however, he knew this would be the worst and that it would begin improving tomorrow. He reached the doorway, Patch silently shadowing him, and smiled at Ziva, "Care to join us?"

She smiled back and said simply, "Yes." Her primary concern was his and Mattie's well-being. It went without saying that she'd have gone anyway, but it was nice that he didn't resent her presence. She liked O'Hara. Like Ducky, he was a gentleman. He was also a highly decorated Marine and he treated her with the respect due another warrior. Ziva considered his incarceration an anomaly in an otherwise exemplary career. After Mattie came bounding down the stairs, Ziva followed as they went through the kitchen to go out the back door. Pausing, she placed Purrl on a kitchen chair, smiling when the little feline let out an indignant squawk and raised a paw in protest. Leaning down, Ziva scratched under the kitten's chin and smiled, "Now Miss Purrl, I must go outside to make sure the grasshoppers do not attack my charges. You must stay in here until I return. Is that understood?" She straightened up and Purrl remained sitting although she continued to glare at the Mossad agent. Ziva inclined her head, "Thank you." She turned towards the door and started in surprise, dropping into a crouch as she spun to her left with a hand on her gun. There was nothing there and Ziva straightened slowly, willing her heartbeat to return to normal. She could have sworn she'd seen a woman holding a black cat out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at Purrl. The kitten pointedly ignored her as she scrubbed industriously at her whiskers. Ziva shook her head and walked out of the kitchen.

o o o o o

Tess McGinley looked down at the cat she was holding, "Well, that was interesting, wasn't it?" Jolly Roger looked up at her, swishing his tail and slowly vanished from sight. Tess glanced over at Phin, "I believe he misses Miz Avis."

Phin grunted, "So do I - and Kate, too." He glanced around, "Do you feel it? Another storm's coming."

Tess nodded slowly, "We'll just have to make do. We've done it before, you know."

o o o o o

Matt picked up a large branch and limped over to the brush pile he was creating. He automatically checked to see how Mattie was doing on the tractor before turning back and watching Ziva add her armload of sticks, "You don't have to do that. You've got your own job to do."

Ziva smiled at him, dusting off her hands, "I do not mind." She nodded to where Patch was laying. The dog was watching the two humans from the shade of a large bush. Even as they watched, she tipped her nose up, testing the breeze, "She is relaxed. If someone was trying to sneak in, she would know."

Matt smiled in agreement, turning around to go collect more debris. Ziva walked along with him. He regarded her thoughtfully, "Where did you learn about tractors?" Ziva had been surprisingly well-informed about the workings of the old tractor.

"When I was a girl, my father sent me and my little sister to a farming kibbutz for several summers. I learned a lot," Ziva shrugged off-handedly. Those had been happier times.

Ninety minutes later, Mattie had finished up the mowing and was heading for the barn when Patch stood up and barked. In moments, she was running for the front of the property. Matt swore a little and limped after her as fast as he could. Ziva easily passed him, moving quickly with a predator's grace, her weapon drawn and held slightly behind her out of sight. Matt cleared the corner of the house and stopped. Ellie Nichols was standing next to her car, staring from Patch to Ziva. She looked relieved to see him.

"Ellie, what brings you out this way?" Matt called, smiling as he moved forward. Ziva relaxed as he walked past and silently withdrew. Patch had already stopped barking and trotted back to Matt. Her tail wagged furiously as he patted and praised her.

"I was showing a house in the area," Ellie replied. She hesitated, frowning, "Matt, why are you limping? And who was that woman? Where's Mattie? When did you get a dog?"

Matt shifted his weight a little as he scrubbed a hand over his close-cropped hair, "It's a bit of a story. How about staying for dinner and I'll tell you all about it?"

Ellie beamed at him, "I'd love to."

Friday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

2045 Local

Ellie sipped her coffee and stared at Matt, "How awful. So that horrible man is gone?" Dinner had been lively as Mattie and Matt took turns telling what they knew had happened in both Falls Church and Bacovia. The three were almost done with dessert. Ziva had eaten her dinner in the kitchen, finishing quickly and resuming her duties. Gibbs would arrive and take over at 2200.

Matt leaned back in his chair, "Dead this time for real, according to Sarah."

"I don't understand," Ellie frowned thoughtfully, glancing towards the kitchen, "if the threat is over, why is there an agent staying here?"

"Special Agent Gibbs is a thorough and careful man," Matt responded easily, glancing at Mattie. "He wants to make sure we're safe until Sarah and Harm are actually home."

"So Agent David is just a precaution?" Ellie seemed to relax a little as Matt nodded. "She seems like a very serious young woman."

"Officer David - she's Israeli Mossad," Mattie offered enthusiastically, "Ziva's pretty cool."

"Really? What's she doing in the U.S.?" Ellie asked, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

"She's a liaison officer between Mossad and NCIS," Mattie smiled. "Ziva's really interesting. She knows a bunch of languages and she's traveled practically everywhere. She's been helping me with my Spanish."

Their conversation was interrupted when Patch suddenly stood up, growling softly. After looking at Matt, she left the dining room, heading for the front door. Ziva stuck her head in a few moments later, "Two vehicles are coming up the driveway. Were you expecting anyone tonight?"

Matt frowned, climbing slowly to his feet, "No - it wouldn't be Gibbs coming early, would it?"

Ziva shook her head, "He would have called if there had been a change of plans. Stay here while I find out what is going on." She disappeared down the hallway. Patch suddenly started barking in the front entryway.

Still scowling, Matt limped out. Ellie's eyes widened when he came back with a pistol in one hand. Mattie swallowed nervously, "What are you going to do? Ziva said to stay."

He looked at her grimly, "I'm going to do some recon. If this is someone being lost, no harm done. If it's something else, then I'll be there for back-up." Matt glared from Ellie to Mattie, "You two will stay in here. Neither of you have the training of Officer David or myself. Is that clear?" When the two nodded, he headed for the kitchen and the back door.

Mattie waited for a minute before looking at Ellie, "Come on."

"But Matt said to - "

"I know," Mattie cut her off, "But if there's trouble, we can call for help - which we won't be able to do if we aren't there to see it. We can watch out the front windows without being seen." She left the dining room with Ellie following reluctantly behind.

o o o o o

Ziva stood on the front porch, half-hidden in the shadows, as the two cars pulled to a stop. She hadn't yet decided if this was a legitimate threat or not. In her experience, bad guys either snuck in or barreled in; they didn't quietly park in full view of their target. If it weren't for the late hour, she might have assumed these were neighbors or friends coming to call. Then the car doors opened and nearly a dozen men piled out. Most were in their early twenties, all appeared to be in various stages of inebriation. Ziva's opinion of the situation swung into the 'definitely not good' category. She watched as they laughed and shoved at each other, waiting for some sort of leader to emerge. Someone had to have convinced them that a car ride was a good idea. Foreboding prickled the back of her neck. Drunken mobs weren't known for their rational behavior and this group would make an excellent weapon if properly directed.

She waited for a few more seconds as they milled about. Finally, she stepped forward, "Are you lost?" They swung towards her in differing levels of bleary-eyed surprise. Ziva's eyes narrowed as she picked out three men whose gazes were sharp and focused. The bad feeling increased a bit more.

One of the three stepped forward, draping an arm across the shoulders of one of his drunken compatriots. He had every appearance of being drunk as well but Ziva knew better. He grinned up at her, "We're here to see the ghosts." He half-turned towards the group, shouting, "Right?" They roared back their agreement, pressing eagerly forward.

"I do not believe they will come out for so many people at once. They are shy," Ziva stated calmly while holding up a hand. "Perhaps if you came forward two or three at a time." That quieted most of the group as they looked at each other, perplexed. Ziva watched them carefully. If she could separate the three leaders, the odds would be much more favorable. She could handle three, she couldn't handle all; not without having to kill a number of them as quickly as possible. That really wasn't an option at this point.

The man scowled for a few moments, "That's not what I heard." He glanced at the others and raised his voice accusingly, "You sound like a foreigner. You one of them illegals?" Ziva stared at him, surprised by the change of topic. One of the other three chimed in, "Yeah - and there's more of you in the house, ain't there?" He looked around the group, "I'll bet it's not haunted at all. I'l bet it's just a story to fool us real Americans and keep folks away."

The crowd grew silent as they struggled to absorb this change in direction. Ziva could sense the mood turning uglier. "I am not illegal," she called out forcefully. "I am a Federal agent. You will leave - now."

"You're a damn traitor!" The first man shouted suddenly, moving closer. "You're protecting those damn illegals, aren't you? Make 'em come out!" The group surged forward with him.

Ziva started to reach unobtrusively for her pistol, "There are no - " She didn't get any further as a half-full beer bottle flew out of the crowd, caught her on the side of the head and shattered. Dazed, she staggered back, sinking to one knee. The mob rushed onto the porch and she felt herself being grabbed by rough hands and hauled upright. Blood began to mix with the beer that streamed down the side of her face, obscuring her vision.

The man stood in front of her, grinning, holding her pistol in his hand. He glanced at the crowd surrounding them both and smiled, hefting the pistol, "You know what I think? I think we should burn this damn place down." Pulling the hammer back, he pointed the gun at Ziva's face, "Any objections?"

"I have one." Matt stood at the bottom of the steps, his own pistol aimed at the crowd. He flung himself to the side a moment later as the man whirled around and fired at him. Matt kept rolling as a second shot dug into the gravel close by. One of the men dove after him and soon the two were struggling.

Ziva wrenched an arm free and decked one of the men holding her. Lashing out with a foot, she sent the man holding her gun sprawling before being tackled from the side. Pain flared through her as several bodies piled on top. The next minute she felt herself being lifted through the air and slammed with bone-jarring force against the house. Dizzy and disoriented, she might have collapsed except for the hands pinning her against the wall. Ziva felt the gun muzzle push her forehead until the back of her head connected with a painful thud against the house. Dimly, she heard the man call her a bitch and knew this was it. Then everything turned strange.

The hands holding her disappeared and she slid down the wall, her legs refusing to support her. The blast of gunshots sounded far away. Even fainter were the sounds of screams and swearing. Dark shapes interspersed with glowing light moved back and forth with dizzying speed. An ominous growling permeated the chaos and Ziva couldn't help shivering. When had the temperature dropped? She felt so cold. What was going on? Gradually, the sounds faded and Ziva sighed a little in relief. She had the worst headache and the noise hadn't helped.

"Hey."

Ziva forced her eyes open and stared at the woman kneeling in front of her. She frowned slightly, "Do I know you?" The woman seemed familiar somehow. She couldn't be sure, her vision wasn't working properly.

"No, but I've seen you around. You need to stay here. Gibbs is coming." The woman grinned wryly, "And you know how annoyed he'll be if you leave."

"I am not going anywhere," Ziva retorted. She didn't think she could crawl, much less walk.

"Good," the woman nodded decisively. She glanced over her shoulder, "I've got to go. Don't forget - you have to wait for Gibbs."

"I said I would," Ziva closed her eyes, wondering just how irritated he was going to be with her over what had happened. He'd been right that there'd be another attempt on the Rabb home and she'd failed to stop them.

o o o o o

Matt grappled with his opponent. The other man was younger, stronger and faster but Matt had training, experience and desperation on his side. It didn't take long for an opportunity to present itself. In less than a minute, Matt had managed a chokehold that rendered the man unconscious. Scooping up his pistol from where he'd lost it, he spun back to the porch in time to see the leader use a pistol to shove Ziva's head up against the house. The Mossad agent only seemed semi-conscious, half her face covered in blood. Matt managed a single limping step forward when the front door suddenly banged open. Patch barreled out first, sinking her teeth into the calf of one of the men holding Ziva. He screamed and cursed, swinging a fist towards the dog but she'd already moved on to her next target.

It was seeing Mattie charge out next that had the blood draining from Matt's face. Armed with a lamp, the teenager lit into the crowd of men like an avenging angel. Right behind her came Ellie in her stocking feet, wielding a high-heeled shoe in each hand. Surprise carried the women past the first ranks and things might have gone badly after that except for what happened next. Glowing, translucent figures erupted from the door and windows and flew at the mob. Matt stood in shock as one of the figures coalesced into a terrifyingly large, angry cat. At the same time, an unearthly low-pitched growl grew in intensity and volume causing the hair on Matt's neck to stand up. Howling in fear, the men still standing scrambled away in an attempt to escape the apparition. They were met by three more ghostly figures that effectively hemmed them in. Meanwhile, Mattie and Ellie, after a brief hesitation, resumed their attack with vigor. Patch continued weaving her own path of destruction, adding to the mayhem.

If Matt was shocked, the group of men were very nearly hysterical. Even the man who seemed to be in charge was rattled, firing his pistol over and over at one glowing figure that kept advancing towards him. He never saw Mattie and collapsed in a boneless heap when her lamp connected with the back of his head. By the time Matt made it up the steps, there were only two men still standing. Mattie, Ellie and Patch closed in on one man while the other made a break towards Matt. The former Marine's fist connected solidly with the man's jaw, dropping him in his tracks.

In the sudden silence, Matt, Ellie and Mattie stared at each other for a few seconds before all three turned towards Ziva. The Mossad agent was sitting slumped against the house, her eyes closed. Mattie reached her first, glancing back at Matt, unsure of what to do. He joined her, accepting Ellie's help in lowering himself down. In the distance, sirens could be heard. When Matt glanced at Mattie, the teenager shrugged, "We called 9-1-1 first."

Nodding, Matt turned his attention back to Ziva. Checking her quickly, he frowned when she didn't respond to her name, "I don't know. The head wound's not bad but that's a lot of blood. She might be going into shock."

Mattie stood up, "I'll get some blankets." She hurried into the house.

"And the first aid kit," Matt called after her. He looked at Ellie, "Let's lay her down." They suited action to words and Matt pulled off his shirt to cushion Ziva's head. Mattie reappeared with a blanket and the kit. Matt took the kit while Ellie arranged the blanket. The sirens were getting louder. Breaking out some gauze pads, Matt pressed them against the jagged cut.

Ellie watched for a moment and then looked around at the carnage on the porch. Several of the men were beginning to stir. "Matt?" she gestured at the men, "Shouldn't we do something with them?"

Matt sighed and nodded, gesturing for Mattie to take over. Ellie lent him a hand standing up and Matt limped over to an area on the porch where he had a clear line of fire. Patch sat down next to him, keeping a baleful eye on the men as well. She growled deep in her throat whenever one of them moved. As each man regained consciousness, Matt ordered him up against the porch railing with his hands clasped behind his head. The police finally arrived, along with an EMT unit. Matt was happy to let all of them take over. Ziva regained consciousness a little before Gibbs arrived. She still appeared confused, asking about the woman who had talked to her. Ellie shook her head, perplexed, while Matt and Mattie had exchanged looks and kept silent.

Gibbs hadn't been there long before the rest of the NCIS team arrived. The police hauled off all but the three ringleaders Ziva pointed out. The Mossad agent was currently on her way to the hospital with a possible concussion and a laceration that would probably take a half-dozen stitches to close. Agent DiNozzo was accompanying her - the wisdom of which Matt questioned after listening to the two. After everything she'd been through, Ziva's mood could best be described as dangerous. That fact seemed to entirely escape Agent DiNozzo who chivied her into the ambulance with a nearly nonstop torrent of comments, wisecracks and pointed barbs. Matt shook his head as the ambulance pulled away, deciding that there might be two patients by the time they reached the hospital. He turned around and started. Gibbs had been standing silently behind him.

The senior NCIS agent tilted his head to the side, "Want to tell me what happened here?"

Matt folded his arms. "We defended ourselves," he said dryly. "Ms. David was a bit outnumbered." When he, Mattie and Ellie were alone, he intended to have a few words with those two about the risks they'd taken. If it hadn't been for their unseen allies stepping in, things would have gone badly.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, glancing around while lowering his voice, "And how many were on your team?"

"Enough," Matt started walking towards the house. There were still a few police hanging about. Most of them were busy keeping curious onlookers away but Matt wasn't going to say anything where it might be overheard. He was also hoping there were no reporters in the group milling around the edges although that didn't seem likely. The house's reputation of being haunted would be enough of a hook to bring a few out. They'd get an earful from the locals to add a little zest to the story. Matt stopped suddenly as his train of thought took him to the next likely scenario. He turned to Gibbs, "I don't suppose there's any way to control the media on this, is there?"

"Hell," Gibbs snorted, "Is there ever any way to control the media? They're a pain in the ass but it shouldn't last long. They'll be all over this for about ten seconds, then some politician will do something stupid and they'll have a new target to torment."

"Do you think they'll move on that quickly when they find out who lives here now? Sarah and Harm aren't exactly low-profile," Matt gestured towards the house. "I'd feel a lot better if their home address wasn't blasted out across the airwaves."

Gibbs sighed, glancing towards the entrance of the driveway, "I don't know if there's any way to stop them if that's what they want to do. All they'd have to do is check at the county courthouse." He looked back at Matt, "I do know that if you ask them not to, they'll think you're hiding something and dig even harder." O'Hara muttered a choice phrase and Gibbs gave him a lop-sided grin, "Yeah."

The two men reached the house and walked in the front door. Tim McGee quickly stood up from where he was sitting with Mattie and Ellie. Patch rose with him, rumbling deep in her chest. "Um, hey boss," he held up a notepad while keeping a wary eye on the dog. "I was just getting Ms. Grace and Ms. Nichols' statements." He shot a look at Matt, "She isn't going to bite, is she?"

"Not unless you keep making sudden moves," Gibbs retorted. "Quit antagonizing her." Tim's mouth opened as he stood there silently but before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door followed by a policeman. Patch took a step towards him before a quiet word from Matt had her turning and going to sit by the former Marine. From there, she divided her attention between McGee and the cop.

The officer opted to ignore the dog altogether and addressed both Matt and Gibbs, "There's a Lt. Commander Roberts at the entrance. Says he's a friend of the family?"

Matt nodded, "He is, let him in." He glanced over at Gibbs, "If Roberts knows then it's already made the news."

Gibbs rolled his eyes a little, "You think? A haunted house, a bunch of drunks and half the Falls Church police force?"

There was silence for a moment before Matt looked over at Ellie, "I'm sorry about all this." His gaze took in Mattie as well, "Are you two okay?"

Ellie looked at Mattie before smiling at Matt, "We're fine." She glanced down at her stocking feet and sighed a little, "My shoes, on the other hand..." Shrugging, she looked back at Matt, "It's not your fault those men showed up tonight."

Everyone turned at the sound of the front door opening. Patch growled and stood up, subsiding when Matt reassured her. A few seconds later, Bud Roberts appeared, followed by the policeman from earlier. Bud thanked the officer and waited for him to withdraw before stepping into the room. His expression became more guarded when he saw Gibbs. Matt frowned, wondering what sort of history the two had. He moved forward a little, "Commander Roberts?"

Bud focused on him, looking somewhat relieved, "Colonel O'Hara." His gaze swept the room. "Is everyone okay? When Harriet and I heard about this on the news, we were worried. She's home with the kids. I'm supposed to call and let her know," he added belatedly.

Matt shared a grin with Mattie. He hadn't known the Robertses as long as Mattie but it had been enough to know how Harriet could be where her friends were concerned. "Everyone's fine now." His expression turned more serious, "What exactly are they saying on the news?"

Bud shook his head, "Not too much yet. That there was a disturbance and a few injuries at a home in Falls Church involving some drunk students from Georgetown University. Their focus is on Georgetown because of the vandalism the other week that was connected to overzealous basketball fans. They're pursuing the 'out-of-control-students' angle right now. They mentioned the subdivision name and Harriet recognized the driveway entrance from the pictures the Colonel showed her." He shot a quick glance at Gibbs, "They didn't bring up the incident from the other day - yet - but you can bet they will. There's already a TV crew setting up just outside your driveway."

"Damn," Matt scrubbed a hand over his head. "The last thing we need is a media circus, especially with Sarah and Harm coming home day after tomorrow." He looked at Bud again, "Are you aware of what happened in Bacovia?" To his surprise, the Lt. Commander nodded.

"Mac called General Cresswell late this afternoon and briefed him. He passed it along to me so we could prepare for any... eventuality." Bud hesitated a moment, "Sir, this will be a circus but it might be possible to make it our circus, if you see what I mean."

"Some legal tap-dancing with the facts?" Gibbs folded his arms and frowned at the JAG officer.

Bud scowled slightly, "More like cooperating with the press and getting our side out there first before it gets any more sensationalized - that is, if someone will fill me in on what really happened here." Matt and Mattie shared a look before the teenager launched into a slightly edited version.

When Mattie finally wound down, Bud glanced around the room, "Okay, I think I've got enough to go on for now. We'll acknowledge the haunted reputation and present it as a catalyst that led a drunken mob to endanger an innocent family," Bud nodded towards Ellie, "and their guests. The fact that they were drinking beforehand will help explain any of their more… umm... outrageous claims."

"And what happened the other day?" Matt asked dryly.

Bud looked unfazed, "Those TV reports were what drew their attention in the first place."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, "You're going to blame this on the media?"

Bud smiled, "Of course not. I'll just point them in that direction and let them draw their own conclusions." He turned suddenly towards Matt, "That is, sir, if you'll allow me to act as the family spokesman."

"By all means, Commander," Matt answered, "I'd rather they didn't see me or Mattie at all."

"Great," Bud smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Now if you'll excuse me for a few minutes, I've got some work to do."

He walked out leaving the group staring at each other. Mattie stood up, "Let's go turn on the news. Maybe they'll carry this live."

She led the way to the family room, Ellie and McGee following along. Gibbs and Matt stayed behind. The retired Marine raised an eyebrow, "Do you think this is connected to the attack on Wednesday?"

"Don't you?" Gibbs retorted.

Matt took a deep breath, "Yes - and no. I thought this was over. Trask and most of his gang are dead. The FBI has the guy Trask hired to spy on Sarah and Harm and you have the would-be arsonist. Who the hell sent these guys?"

"Don't know - yet," Gibbs turned and headed out of the room. "C'mon, let's see how Roberts handles this."

o o o o o

Tess turned to look at Kate, "Are you all right, dear?"

Kate tore her gaze away from Gibbs, looking a bit startled, "What? Oh, sure - I'm fine. Just listening to the conversation." She frowned thoughtfully, looking out of the room where Gibbs had gone. Despite being completely opposite in their approach, Kate was beginning to see that Avis and Gibbs were actually a lot alike. While Avis always offered the carrot (delicately steamed and elegantly presented) and kept the stick out of sight, you knew it was there. Gibbs, on the other hand, held out both the carrot and stick and, nine times out of ten, would beat you silly with both. Both had forceful personalities, an uncanny (and annoying) knack for being right and neither were given to explanations. Kate stifled a sigh, wondering at her luck. The cosmos was no doubt laughing its head off.

"Well, we're glad to have you back, young lady," Phin interrupted her thoughts, throwing in his two cents worth from his spot by the window. "Your timing was perfect."

Tess nodded, "And it was very nice of you to help Miz David like that."

Kate shrugged a little uncomfortably, "The team's had enough casualties. I didn't think it was her time." She decided to redirect the conversation, "What I don't understand is how Jolly Roger did what he did."

"He's a cat," Phin snorted as if that was explanation enough.

Tess rolled her eyes at her husband before turning to Kate, "He was quite angry and cats are… well… different. The boundaries don't really seem to apply to the ones that stay."

Kate frowned, "Is that why Purrl Bailey keeps showing up with Mac?" She'd discovered early on that animals were aware of her but the kitten was the only one she'd seen who seemed to easily participate in both worlds.

Tess shook her head, "I suppose, although I'm not really an expert on these things. It might have something to do with the people they attach themselves to. Jolly Roger is with Avis, Purrl Bailey has claimed Sarah."

"But Roger stayed here. He didn't follow Avis to Bacovia," Kate argued.

"As far as you know," Tess countered. She shrugged her shoulders a little, "One can never tell with cats. You'd really have to ask Miz Avis. I assume she's staying with Sarah and Harm?"

Kate nodded, "They'll be home on Sunday. Avis thought it would be better if I came ahead." Avis had been insistent although she never really explained why at the time. Of course, now the 'why' was pretty obvious.

"She sure thought right. We were mighty glad to see you." Phin shook his head, "That's a handy talent she's got there."

Kate frowned at him, "What do you mean?"

"Second sight, child," Tess replied, smiling. "Same as Sarah, although Miz Avis is much stronger - just like when she was alive."

"Avis is psychic?" Kate's eyebrows rose. She hadn't considered that. She'd assumed that the things Avis seemed to know came with experience or some sort of senior spirit information hotline. Heaven knew she was learning new things all the time. Kate filed that tidbit away to mull over later. She was still trying to put the pieces together about the relationship between Avis and Mac. She felt like she was missing something important. Neither woman had been all that helpful when answering questions and Kate had the distinct feeling that Avis found her efforts amusing.

o o o o o o

McGee stayed in the background while Mattie surfed the local channels in hopes of someone airing the interview with Commander Roberts. He was still amazed at their story - and a bit skeptical. Not with the fact that the two had charged into the fray armed only with a lamp, high heels and an irate dog, but that they hadn't simply been overwhelmed. There was a missing piece to their story, an obvious omission given the looks the two had exchanged during parts of their recital of the incident. He had his suspicions but what he wanted was confirmation. McGee didn't think Ziva would be able to shed any light on what happened either. Her head injury had occurred early on. He hadn't had much time to ask her anything and, judging by her mood, he'd have to proceed very cautiously when he did. The Mossad agent didn't react well to failure and in her eyes, having to be rescued by the people she was supposed to protect was a massive failure.

TIm didn't see it that way and he was profoundly grateful that she'd survived. He'd learned with Kate how quickly a situation could turn and although the odds weren't in his favor, he hoped to never experience that sort of loss again. Thinking of Kate had him glancing around the room again. Was she here? Had she been the reason this latest attempt had failed?

"Hah, found it!"

Mattie's voice cut into McGee's thoughts and he turned his attention to the TV just as Gibbs and Colonel O'Hara walked into the room. The group listened intently and, afterwards, even Gibbs had to admit that Commander Roberts had handled it well. He had one of those likable faces that oozed sincerity along with a touch of naivete. Roberts was by turns, earnest, concerned, skeptical and compassionate. It was a bravura performance. He brought up the house's reputation and the level of inebriation of the men, stealing a march on the verisimilitude of any claims of paranormal activity while neatly explaining how a senior citizen, two women and a teenage girl overcame nearly a dozen men. Ziva's connection with NCIS and her role at the house never came up. She was included with 'visiting friends of the family' and only identified as an innocent victim of drunken violence. McGee found himself shaking his head at the end of the interview. Commander Roberts had to be hell in the courtroom.

A couple of minutes after the interview ended, Patch stood up and growled. A moment later, they heard Bud's voice calling for Matt. Somewhat mystified, Matt excused himself and went to find the Commander. He and Bud were back in the family room a few minutes later. Matt was chuckling. At a questioning look from Mattie and the others, he grinned, "It seems Patch isn't the only guardian in this house."

Clearly surprised, Mattie's eyes widened slightly as she surreptitiously glanced at McGee. Matt turned with a smile to Bud, "Shall I?"

Bud flushed a little, "They looked serious."

"Who?" Ellie asked with a frown.

Matt chuckled, "Purrl and Bill Bailey - the kittens," he added at the questioning look on McGee's face. "It seems they've had enough of strangers in the house, too. They had the Commander backed into a corner."

"Well, I can't blame him," Ellie declared graciously, "cats can cause a lot of damage with their claws and teeth and, besides, I'm sure the Commander didn't want to hurt the little things." She smiled at Bud, "You did a wonderful job with those reporters."

Pink continued to tinge the Commander's face as he smiled slightly in return, "Thank you, ma'am." He looked like he wanted to say more but he glanced at the NCIS agents and subsided.

Gibbs rolled his eyes a bit and stood up, "Let's go, McGee." He looked at Matt, "I'll let you know when I get back if we get anything from those three Ziva picked out."

"I can stay, boss," McGee offered. This could be an opportunity to make contact with Kate. He was positive she had a hand in tonight's activities.

"Why don't you both take the night off?" Matt suggested. "I seriously doubt anything else will happen before tomorrow."

Gibbs looked at him for a long moment before nodding, "Yeah, you're probably right." His gaze took in Matt, Mattie, Ellie and Patch as he gave a half-smile, "Besides, it's not like you're completely unprotected. I'll be back first thing in the morning." He pointed towards the door, "McGee. Go." The others watched as the two NCIS agents walked out.

"I should get going, too. Harriet's probably getting pretty anxious by now," Bud started for the door and then hesitated.

"I'll go with you," Ellie rose from her chair, "I've got a couple coming in to look at a house tomorrow morning and I have to run by the office early."

Matt glanced down at her stocking feet, "I think I owe you a pair of shoes. Once Sarah and Harm are back, may I take you shopping?"

Ellie gave him a radiant smile, "It's not necessary but very sweet of you to offer. It was for a good cause and I have plenty of shoes."

Mattie suddenly bounced to her feet, "You know what? I've probably got some sandals you can wear home right now. Wait here and I'll get them." She shot Matt an intense look as she passed him and all but shoved Bud out the door in front of her.

Matt flushed, rubbing the back of his neck while Ellie chuckled. She looked at him in amusement, "Subtlety really isn't her strong suit, is it?" Matt started to apologize but Ellie cut him off with a smile, "How about a movie and dinner instead of shoe shopping?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" bemused, Matt raised an eyebrow.

Ellie's smile faltered, "If you'd rather not - ."

This time Matt cut her off, "Ms. Nichols, you're a beautiful, intelligent, courageous woman and I'm flattered as hell that you'd ask. I'd love to go out with you." He grinned at her, "Do I get to pick the movie?"

"We'll negotiate," Ellie responded firmly, still blushing from his compliment. She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek but he turned his head at the last moment, capturing her lips. Patch's soft whine broke them apart and they heard Mattie nosily stomping down the hallway towards them. She appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, smiling brightly. Ellie gave Matt a sideways look, murmuring, "Busted."

He gave a minute nod while managing to look both innocent and smug, "I'll walk you to your car."

o o o o o

Sunday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

1640 Local

At the sound of Patch barking, Mattie came flying through the kitchen, "They're here!"

Emma, Harriet and Ellie turned and then looked at each other. "Good timing," Harriet said as she put the finishing touches on a platter of cold cuts and garnishes.

"I'll blame Sarah for that. She always has good timing - especially when food's involved," Emma chuckled. She pulled a bowl of potato salad out of the fridge and headed to the dining room to add it to the food already there. Ellie followed her with a platter of salsa and chips. Tonight's meal would be simple and easy, both for eating and clean-up.

Bud was picking everyone up at Dulles. Frank had made the flight arrangements so they could all travel together. Knowing the group would be jet-lagged, this homecoming gathering was being kept low-key and short. Harriet's parents were in town and they had all the grandchildren for the night. As much as Harm and Mac doted on their godchildren, Bud didn't think they would up for his brood's rambunctious antics so soon after their arrival. The plan was to greet and feed the travelers, exchange reassurances that everyone was fine or going to be, chat for a little bit and take off. Mattie was giving her bedroom to the Burnetts and sacking out in the family room.

After depositing the platters and dishes on the dining room table, the women headed for the front door. Matt and Mattie were already waiting at the bottom of the steps. Patch was sitting quietly at Matt's feet. The van pulled to a stop in front of the house. Frank and Mac were the first out, closely followed by Bud and Trish. It took a little longer for Harm to get out, even with Mac and Frank's help. The two groups stood for a second or two looking at each other before Mattie broke the tableau, racing forward to hug Harm and Mac. Soon the two groups were mingling freely, exchanging hugs and smiles.

Mac disengaged herself from Matt's embrace and looked down at Patch. Bud had warned them about their welcome home celebration, as well as assuring them that it wouldn't be large or long. She'd halfway expected to see Ellie Nichols but Uncle Matt with a dog was a surprise. Mac extended the back of her hand for Patch to sniff and raised an eyebrow at her uncle, "We have a dog now? Where'd he come from?"

"She," Matt corrected with a smile. "That beard will fool you. She's a stray, wandered onto the property the day after you left."

"And claimed Uncle Matt," Mattie added from over by the Burnetts and Ellie. "She's a really good dog. We put signs out, nobody's called."

Mac glanced over at Harm who was standing with Harriet, Emma and Bud. He gave a small, resigned shrug. After everything they'd gone through, getting upset about another stray being taken in seemed silly. They already had cats and ghosts, so why not a dog? Besides, it was obvious the attachment already went both ways. Just to be on the safe side, Harm sent Mattie a mock-stern look, "I don't mind a dog, but if an elephant shows up next, forget it."

Emma clapped her hands, announcing with a smile, "Let's take this inside everyone, there's food waiting."

Harm stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked up. He'd been on crutches less than twenty-four hours and the steps looked like a mountain. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it up to their bedroom either.

"It's kind of scary, isn't it sir?" Bud spoke quietly. "Do you want a hand?"

Harm quirked an eyebrow at the younger man, "Is there a trick to doing this?"

Bud smiled wryly, "Practice." He nodded a greeting as Mac and Mattie walked over. The Burnetts had already followed Harriet and Emma up the steps.

"Need help?" Mac asked. Ellie had gone over to Matt after Emma's announcement and Mac decided the two didn't need a third wheel. It still felt a little odd to think of Uncle Matt dating but she knew Ellie was a good person.

Harm glanced from the stairs to Bud to her and sighed, "Probably, but I guess I need to try this on my own." He gave her a grin, "I suppose you could stay behind me so I'll have something soft to land on when I fall."

Mac folded her arms, "Is this some sort backhanded way of calling me fat? Stickboy?" Beside her, Bud's eyes widened in alarm and he began to inch unobtrusively away. Mattie just shook her head.

"Hey, women just naturally have more body fat." Harm grinned fondly at his Marine. He'd almost forgotten that long ago conversation. She hadn't called him 'Stickboy' in ages.

Mac grinned back and stepped up alongside, "Move it, Squid. There's food waiting."

o o o o o

Sunday,

Rabb-McGinley home

Falls Church, VA

2045 Local

Harm leaned against the headboard and watched as Mac moved around the bedroom. She'd been preoccupied since they'd thanked everyone and called it a night. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why. He'd been just as shocked and dismayed to hear about the two attempts on their home. Matt had downplayed the seriousness and kept all mention of anything paranormal out of the story while emphasizing the role Gibbs and NCIS had played. Harm knew there was more to the story. In the meantime, he'd already broached the idea of a 'thank-you' barbecue for Gibbs and his team with Mac. She'd agreed readily enough, promising to call Gibbs in the morning. "Hey," he finally called softly as she opened the bedroom door a crack for the kittens. When she turned to look at him, he patted the bed, "Come on."

Sighing a little, Mac nodded and climbed into bed, sliding under the covers. Turning out the light, she waited for Harm to situate himself before carefully nestling into his side and draping an arm across his chest. She felt his hand cover her arm and his fingers begin a delicate dance. Mac braced herself for the inevitable question, "Want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," she answered softly. "They went after our home," she finally said after a few seconds of silence. "We weren't even in the country and they went after our home - our family." Her voice was shaky.

"I know," Harm tightened his hold on her, "But they failed - spectacularly, it sounded like - and you and I both know what Matt didn't mention. This place has some pretty potent guardians."

"They still hurt Uncle Matt. He could have easily been killed."

Harm could feel the tension in her, "But he wasn't, and from the way he described the attack, that guy could have also missed him altogether. It was a fluke, a wild, desperate swing. Besides, NCIS caught all of them. It's not like they're going to get out any time soon." He shifted a little, "What else is wrong?" Mac was silent for so long, Harm would have thought she'd fallen asleep except for the rigidness in her posture.

"We want kids. How can we do that if we can't even guarantee their safety? Who in their right mind would even consider us as foster parents?" Mac's voice was ragged with unshed tears.

"Hey, c'mon," Harm soothed. "Trask was behind all this and he's gone for good, so chances are we don't have to worry about anything else happening. As for safety, we do the best we can - you know as well as I do that there aren't any guarantees out there. Things happen all the time to all kinds of people. We don't have a corner on that market and we'll deal with it like any other set of parents." He let a smile creep into his voice, "And I happen to think we'll make awesome parents."

"Awesome, huh?" Mac couldn't help smiling a little at his jaunty tone.

"Oh yeah," Harm gave her a squeeze, relieved to feel her begin to relax. He laid there for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of her in his arms before beginning speculatively, "You know, you've got a bigger problem to handle right now."

Mac's head came up, squinting at Harm in the dark, "I do?"

"You do," Harm nodded towards the foot of the bed. "Purrl." The kittens, both Bill and Purrl, were in their usual spot at the foot of the bed. The difference was that Purrl was curled up facing away from Mac. Apparently the kitten had yet to forgive Mac's absence and was making sure her displeasure was known. She had followed Mac everywhere but stayed conspicuously out of reach and kept her back to the Marine. Harm chuckled, "I've always heard you're nobody until you've been ignored by a cat."

Mac let her head drop back down onto the pillow, "Maybe she'll forgive me in the morning."

"I don't know," Harm still sounded amused, "She seems pretty stubborn. Must have been a Marine in a former life."

Mac raised her head again and narrowed her eyes, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Me?" Harm feigned innocence, "How could you say such a thing? I'm merely concerned how the dynamics of this disassociation might affect the smooth flow of our familial unit."

Mac buried her head in the pillow again, "Oh god, you've watched daytime talk shows. Why didn't I know this before we got married?"

"You didn't ask," Harm settled down, "Good night, female spousal unit." He grinned as he closed his eyes. Mac's grumbled reply had been muffled by her pillow so he wasn't quite sure if she'd said spousal unit or spousal eunuch but, either way, he'd successfully distracted her from her worries.


	33. Epilogue Pt 1 corr

A/N: This has been a long time coming and I sincerely apologize for the inordinate amount of time it took to post this. The week of Thanksgiving was the first week in nearly six months or more that I haven't had to work ten or more hours a day. Traditionally, I do most of my writing on weekends but they were being co-opted to try and catch up on everything I wasn't getting done during the week. It's been tough trying to mentally switch gears from graphic design to writing. There were a number of times when I just couldn't get myself to focus.

Ironically, the very last of this epilogue was written first - I just had to get there. It's been hard trying to decide how much farther to go. I didn't want to start what would be another new story but I didn't want to make everyone wait to see how Mac and Harm move on with their lives. Then there were the loose ends to tie up. Every time I thought I'd gotten the middle portion done, there'd be something else that needed to be wrapped up and the darn thing just kept growing. Now, finally, it's complete and I hope everyone finds it worth the wait.

Epilogue - Pt. 1

One month later,  
Saturday,  
Rabb-McGinley home Falls Church, VA 0920 Local

Harm dunked the sponge mop into the bucket and squeezed out the excess water. He'd drawn the kitchen for cleaning while Mac was doing the vacuuming and Mattie dusted. Matt was policing the outside. With the number of people that were expected, Mac had rousted everyone out early to complete the final preparations. The thank-you barbecue for NCIS had been postponed because of the team's caseload but they'd finally been able to re-schedule for this weekend.

With a number of friends also wishing to see their new home, Mac had met with Gibbs and broached the idea of combining a housewarming party with the barbecue. Although Harm had been positive that Gibbs would back out, the man hadn't objected to the idea at all. When Mac got home and reported her success, Harm finally decided that Gibbs just didn't like saying no to her. Prudently, he'd kept his opinion to himself. Thinking about NCIS had Harm frowning a little. The three ringleaders that Officer David identified from the drunken mob had lawyered up almost immediately and refused to talk. Not even Gibbs could get them to crack, so there'd been no way to identify who'd been behind the attack. Harm knew that Mac suspected Edwina McKlellan but there was no proof.

His parents had returned to California about midway through the first week home. Harm had had mixed feelings about seeing them go. It'd been nice to be able to visit without any pressure or crisis to deal with, but it had also been good to finally have a bit of privacy, too. He'd been on medical leave during that first week while Mac had gone back to work. She hadn't said much about her first couple of days except that she'd been debriefed by an alphabet soup of government bureaucracies. Harm had read between the lines and given her space. After having had to continually relive that nightmare, he'd figured the last thing she'd have wanted would be to rehash everything when she got home. Both he and Mac knew she'd broken Bacovian law by arming her little group even though Mo had provided the firepower. Harm was also aware from talking to Bud that the State Department weenies had been wringing their hands over the possible political fallout of her actions. While Bacovia wasn't particularly big, it had always been a staunch and stable US ally and they wanted to keep it that way. He knew they'd happily throw Mac under the bus if that was what was required.

Harm wasn't really worried about it, knowing that Cat would block any attempt at political reprisal. The young woman had been weaned on Bacovian politics, the opposition would have a tough time getting anything past her. She'd already derailed much of the legal ramifications by her actions early on. Meanwhile, Daniel handled the media with a deft touch as more and more facts emerged about the incident. It was now known that Carol had been taken along with Harm. Public outrage had been gratifyingly vocal. It helped that Carol was a popular member of the royal family. Being American, she'd worked hard over the years to integrate with Bacovian society, learning the language and the country's history while involving herself in numerous charitable causes. Her efforts were appreciated by the general populace and the family's popularity had soared as the people learned more of the handling of the crisis. Harm noted that very little had been said about Gheorghe's actions as they focused on Nicky's heroics and Cat's gritty tenacity. Romania also came off well as their part in the rescue was revealed. There'd even been a picture of a beaming Ambassador Iliesca receiving a royal commendation for his actions from Cat.

Back home in Falls Church, things had slowly gotten back to normal. He'd finally been able to ditch the crutches and switch to a cane. He was settling in at his new post as well. It wasn't JAG by any means but his colleagues were pleasant. The work was strictly routine and he left promptly at 5 every night. If he'd been looking at years at this posting, Harm might have worried about losing his mind from boredom but with retirement less than a year away, he knew he could stick it out. Shaking his head at the direction his memories were taking him, Harm scrubbed briskly at the floor before dunking the mop again. After a moment, he straightened up, frowning a bit at the sound of Patch barking. He wasn't as well-versed as Matt but he was beginning to differentiate between Patch's 'come down, you cowardly squirrels' bark and her 'intruder alert' bark. It was a little too early for guests. A minute or so later, Mattie showed up in the doorway, her eyes wide, "There's a limo coming down the driveway."

Harm's frown deepened. The list of friends who traveled in limos was relatively short. Bobby Latham was one, the Dzurick family was another. Could it be one of them? He knew Mo was back at the Academy but she usually kept a low profile. Limos weren't her style. He put the mop in the bucket and grabbed the cane he'd hung on the back of a chair, "Thanks, Matts, would you let Mac know, please? I'll meet her out front." Mattie disappeared down the hallway and Harm followed her out. By the time he made it to the foyer, Mac and Mattie were at the top of the stairs. He glanced up and shrugged at the questioning look Mac gave him, deciding he might as well wait for her before going out on the porch. Patch had stopped barking which meant that Matt was probably near the front of the house.

Mac was frowning slightly as she joined him, "Think it's one of the Dzuricks?"

"I guess there's only one way to find out," Harm propped himself up by the door and gestured for Mac and Mattie to precede him. Mac returned the favor, holding open the screen door until he was out. The limo parked in front and Mac noted Uncle Matt's presence near the corner of the house. Patch was standing beside him, her focus divided between Matt and the intruders. Harm, Mac and Mattie stopped at the top of the steps and, by silent assent, waited for whoever it was to appear.

Mac saw the Bacovian colors on the license plate holder and relaxed a little. It was the only thing that distinguished the dark, tinted-window limo from the fleet of others that routinely prowled the DC area. There had been a tiny, irrational worry in the back of her mind that Senator Coughlin might have decided to show up on their doorstep and ruin the day. The doors opened and several large, imposing-looking security men climbed out. After scrutinizing the area, one turned and opened the back door. When Liz Parker stepped out first, Mac exchanged a look with Harm and headed down the steps. They both knew who else was probably in the limo.

A word from Liz let Mac past the security men. By the time the JAG officer reached the limo, Liz had Carol halfway out. The former Queen was looking considerably better. The only visible sign of what had happened to her was the cast on her right hand.

"Sarah," Carol smiled and stepped forward to give Mac a hug. Her smile grew wider as she looked past Mac and extended a hand, "Harm, how's your knee?" Mac turned to see Harm swinging forward easily with his cane.

"Much better, the surgeons did a great job," Harm cast a sideways look at Mac, "I'll probably be able to lose the cane in a couple more days."

"Not a chance, mister," Mac folded her arms, arching an eyebrow. "You're using it until the doctors tell you it's okay to stop."

Carol chuckled as Harm's face fell before turning her attention to Mattie and Matt, greeting them both. She turned back to Mac and Harm, "I hope you don't mind our dropping in unannounced." She glanced at Liz, "We're on a bit of a tight schedule but I wanted to see you."

"Of course not," Harm assured her, sharing another look with Mac. "Would you like to come in?"

"If you don't mind," Carol nodded. Mattie and Matt, sensing that Carol needed some privacy, made their excuses and headed back to the area where Matt had been setting up picnic tables. Mac and Harm led the way to the house. A word from Carol left the security men on the porch. Harm ushered their guests into the living room. Mac went to the kitchen to put on some coffee, waving a hand when Harm called after her to make sure it was coffee and not the Marine-grade sludge she and Matt favored. Liz went with her to help while Carol chuckled at the byplay. After a few moments of silence, Carol leaned forward, "Harm, I know Sarah already said this to you but I'd like to apologize in person for leaving you behind with those animals."

Harm shook his head, watching her closely, "Only if you'll accept my apology for not being able to protect you. I'm so sorry you had to go through that." He watched her stiffen ever so slightly and added with a wry grin, "But I will accept your apology for scaring ten years off my life when you jumped that horse off the cliff. That was the craziest thing I've ever seen."

Carol smiled, "It was the guide, Mr. Tarchevsky, who suggested it. He said his horse, Gavrill, could handle it and he was right." She leaned back a little, "But as we went over the edge, I thought it was crazy, too."

o o o o o

Mac looked over at Liz as she prepared the coffeemaker, "How is she?"

Liz glanced away for a moment, "Taking it day by day." She looked back at Mac, "Going home to Kentucky was your idea?"

Mac shrugged uncomfortably, "It seemed right. You disagree?"

"No, no," Liz shook her head. "I think this will do her good." Both women fell silent, listening to the coffee percolate. After a minute or so, Liz said quietly, "It's been a month and she still won't talk to me about it." She turned to look at Mac, "But she told you, didn't she?"

It wasn't hard to pick up the hurt in Liz's voice and Mac chose her words carefully, "I'd already heard most of it from Harm. Carol knew that and I'm sure that's what made it easier. Besides, we're only friends. You two are like sisters. I'll bet she hasn't told the family any of the details either, has she?" Liz shook her head slowly and Mac pressed her point, "She's probably worried about how you'll react. Give her a little more time and let her know you're ready to listen whenever." Liz considered that and finally nodded with a sigh. Relieved, Mac pulled out a serving tray and began assembling coffee cups and spoons.

"Anything I can do?" Liz asked as Mac grabbed the sugar bowl and creamer.

"Nope, I'm just about ready," Mac replied as she pulled a package of butter cookies out of the cupboard and put them on a plate. The coffee finished not much later and Mac put the pot on the tray, too. Picking it up, she nodded towards the kitchen door, "If you wouldn't mind opening the door please?"

Liz nodded and walked over to the door, Mac following behind. Just as she reached it, the door swung in on its own. Liz jerked her hand back and spun to give Mac a wide-eyed look.

Gritting her teeth into a smile, Mac gave a shrug, "Must be a draft. You know how these old houses are." Liz nodded, still looking a little uncertain and started back to the living room. Mac followed along, glancing over her shoulder as she left the kitchen and muttering, "Stop helping, please."

Reaching the living room, Mac was relieved to see Harm and Carol smiling and chatting. She'd been worried that Carol would still be feeling guilty about her escape and that things would be awkward between the two. She put the tray on the coffee table. Harm leaned forward and poured the coffee, handing the cups and saucers to Carol and Liz before pouring for Mac and himself. Taking a cautious sip, he shot a grin at Mac. She rolled her eyes at him before looking back at Carol and Liz, "How's Nicky?"

Carol smiled, "Much better. He's out of the hospital finally and working with a physical therapist." She chuckled a little, "Thanks to the press, he's also become the heartthrob to a number of pre-teen and teenage girls. Marius has had to retrain some of Nicky's security to handle love-struck fans."

When Harm and Mac's eyebrows rose, Liz explained with grin, "There's a totally different technique to removing hysterical 13-year-old fangirls without hurting them in the process."

"I can imagine," Harm laughed, shaking his head, "How does Nicky feel about it?"

"Mostly, I think he's embarrassed by the attention. He was protecting his big sister, not the Queen," Carol replied, sobering a little.

"Well, he has a history of that," Mac added, remembering how he'd literally rode to Cat's rescue back in Lexington years ago. She smiled, "I guess it doesn't hurt that he's a handsome young man, too."

"Just like his father," Carol smiled.

Mac exchanged a quick look with Harm before asking cautiously, "How is Gheorghe?"

"Fine," Carol's response was short and clipped. There was a brief, awkward pause before Carol sighed quietly, "He's not happy about my leaving Bacovia and even less happy that he's not allowed to come with me. He's not used to hearing the word 'no'. Mom and Dad both put their foot down and told him to stay away from Windswept until he's invited." She glanced away for second, "I need this but I feel badly about it. He's really been trying these last few weeks."

Mac nodded slowly, "I imagine he's scared, but you need to take this time for yourself. Do you have any idea how long you'll be in Kentucky?"

Carol shook her head, "Not really, maybe a month. I just don't know." She was silent for a moment before looking over at Mac, "This is a lovely piece of property, would you mind giving me a tour of the grounds?"

Mac blinked, "Of course not." She rose with Carol, looking at Harm and Liz, "We'll be back in a few minutes." They went out the front door, picking up several of the security guards. Walking down the porch steps, Mac turned to the left, away from where Matt and Mattie were working. They walked along in silence for a little bit. Finally, Mac looked at Carol, "What did you want to talk about?"

Carol was silent for a few more steps before saying quietly, "When does it stop?"

Mac took a deep breath, "Nightmares?"

Carol stared out at the tree line, "Nightmares, daymares, jumping at sounds, flinching when someone touches me. That man - I know he's dead - but I can't get rid of him." She rubbed her temples, "Dammit, how do you do handle this sort of thing?"

Mac raised an eyebrow, drawling, "I used to drink." She raised her hands, "Honestly, the best and hardest thing to do is talk to someone about it. Find a professional, or a support group, or a friend and talk it out. Talk to Liz." Mac glanced over to see Carol stiffen slightly, "She needs to talk to you about it, too, you know. She was standing there when Cat and Nicky were hit and I wouldn't have gotten out of the palace in time without her. She got in all sorts of trouble because of it. You should have seen her, ran over Marius' security people like a bulldozer. I heard she didn't rest until you were home."

"I hadn't thought about that." Carol frowned, looking at the ground, "I guess I've been too wrapped up in my own little pity party."

"I don't think so. It's been a lot to deal with," Mac regarded Carol seriously, "You two can help each other but you'll probably have to be the one to start the conversation. Liz won't want to upset you."

o o o o o

Harm watched Mac and Carol leave the room and looked over at Liz. She was watching them leave as well, an unreadable look on her face. Harm cleared his throat and waited for her to turn her attention to him. When she did, he smiled gently, "How are you?" 'Fine' was her quick response and Harm leaned back against the couch, "Uh-huh, want to try again?"

"Honestly, I'm okay," Liz insisted.

Harm regarded her for a moment, taking another sip of his coffee, "All right, then let me say thank you."

Liz looked confused, finally focusing her entire attention on him, "I don't understand, for what?"

"For risking so much to rescue me - well, Carol, really - but I was included in the package," Harm gave her one of his best smiles, "So - thank you."

Liz couldn't help smiling back, "You're welcome." They sat in silence for a few minutes before Liz said quietly, "She won't talk to me about what happened." She sighed, "It hurts. We've been best friends for nearly forty years and always talked about everything but now she's shutting me out." She stared at her hands, not looking at Harm, "It hasn't been easy for me either and it's not like I don't know a lot of it. I've talked to Cat and Pick. I'm trying to be patient but I don't understand."

Harm leaned forward a little, "You know, Carol's a lot like Mac and I can tell you from experience, Mac wouldn't be talking either. She'd be angry and blaming herself for everything that happened, no matter how little control she had over the situation. Then she'd be embarrassed and worried about how everyone would react to her failures and then she'd be angry with herself again. It's a pretty vicious cycle."

Liz stared at him, "What do you do?"

Harm scrubbed a hand through his hair, glancing away for a moment, "Well, I used to get angry back and divide my time between nagging at her and lashing out." He looked back at Liz, smiling ruefully, "I don't recommend it."

Liz shook her head and gave him a small grin, "Be thankful Mac never had the authority to order a beheading." She tilted her head at him, "You said 'used to', what do you do now?"

Harm grinned, "I still nag, but I've gotten much better at it. What really changed was Mac finally realizing it wasn't a sign of weakness to talk to someone about it. " He shrugged, "It's hard but I've learned to be patient. Sometimes it takes a while before she can bring herself to open up. A lot of times it's to me, but not always."

"Doesn't that bother you?" Liz asked.

"Used to, but there were times when I was the one making her crazy, so I wasn't really the person she could turn to," Harm took another sip of his coffee. "Emma Fine helps, so did Kate Todd - and Mac has talked to professionals, too." He decided not to mention Avis at all. Harm eyed Liz, "I imagine Gheorghe is probably complicating things for Carol, too."

"That man," Liz rolled her eyes, "If I thought I could get away with it, I'd slap him for some of the things he's said." She looked at Harm, "I introduced the two of them, you know. Carol was riding for the US Equestrian Team and Gheorghe and I were at Georgetown University. I was getting my degree in Foreign Service and Gheorghe was getting his Masters in Business Administration." At Harm's surprised look, Liz smiled, "Bacovia was still in the Soviet Union and Gheorghe was determined not to be another useless royal parasite on the European circuit. He thought it would help if the family ever made it back to power and he was right. Since he's been on the throne, Bacovia's had an impressive economic growth. He's been a brilliant administrator." She gazed off into the distance, remembering, "Anyway, Gheorghe's family was hosting some international soiree or other, so he invited me and guest." At Harm's questioning look, she waved a hand, "We hung out with the same group of friends and he was being nice. He'd been helping me now and then with my Russian language classes and thought it'd be good practice. The thing was, Carol was visiting me at the time, so instead of dragging my reluctant boyfriend along, I took her. Gheorghe was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on Carol. They spent most of the evening together, began dating and were married two years later, right after Bacovia regained her independence. The twins were born a year and half later. Gheorghe assumed the Kingship after his father's death while Carol was pregnant with Nicky."

"So you went from Georgetown right to Bacovia as Carol's Executive Secretary?" Harm snagged a cookie from the platter.

"Pretty much. After graduation, I'd put in my application at the State Department, but nothing had come up yet," Liz nodded, "And Carol was a bit overwhelmed. A new husband, new country, she didn't speak the language and not all of Gheorghe's family was happy about him marrying an American. I couldn't turn her down when she asked. She was terrified, although you'd have never guessed it. She wouldn't admit it at first, even when she knew I knew. That's just how she is." Liz stopped suddenly and looked at Harm before shaking her head and leaning back, "Okay, I get it." She arched an eyebrow at him, "So this is what you do on your cases? Toss out a sentence and let the other party rattle on until the pieces come together and they hang themselves?"

Harm grinned as he took a bite out of the cookie, "Whatever works. Feeling better?"

Liz grinned back, "Much, thanks for the ear."

The front door opening alerted them and Liz rose to her feet just as Carol and Mac appeared in the doorway. She smiled at the two of them, "Ready to go?"

Carol nodded, looking much more relaxed than when she'd first arrived, "Yes."

o o o o o

Harm and Mac waved as the limo drove off. Slipping an arm around his waist, Mac looked up at Harm, "How'd you do with Liz?"

"Pretty well," he grinned at her while draping an arm across her shoulders, "Her feelings were hurt and she needed to vent a bit. I think she'll be more patient while she waits for Carol to open up. Speaking of which, how did your end go?"

Mac's expression grew serious, "Okay, I guess. She's having a hard time - remember how I was right after Archangel?" Harm nodded solemnly while giving her a reassuring squeeze. Mac smiled at the gesture and rose up to give him a quick kiss, "Thanks. Anyway, I told her the best thing to do was talk and then I pointed out that Liz needed to talk, too, that she'd been through her own trauma. Knowing how Carol is, if nothing else, she'll make the effort just to help Liz out."

"Helping herself as well, nice work, counselor," Harm smiled. He glanced back at the house and heaved an exaggerated sigh, "Now, I suppose it's back to hard labor?"

"Of course," Mac chuckled, turning him towards the steps, "Didn't you hear? 'No good deed goes unpunished.'"

o o o o o

Saturday,  
Rabb-McGinley home Falls Church, VA 1730 Local

Mac walked into the kitchen to retrieve another platter of hamburger patties and hot dogs for Uncle Matt to grill. Their guests were a voracious bunch. In addition to Gibbs' team, they'd invited their friends from JAG, Ellie Nichols, Chandra Stivens, Emma Fine and James Fine with his family. Mattie had invited a couple of classmates, as well. Harm hadn't been sure how the mix would work but so far, everything was going well. While Bud was definitely leery of Gibbs, Harriet didn't have that problem. Of course, as the mother of four, she didn't scare easily. She'd also been friendly with Kate Todd and welcomed the opportunity to finally express her condolences in person. AJ Roberts had promptly attached himself to Gibbs and, unexpectedly, the senior NCIS agent seemed to be enjoying the boy's company. They'd even tossed a football around before the food was ready.

The sound of the back door opening alerted Mac. Turning around, she was surprised to see Ziva David standing in the entryway to the kitchen. A moment later, the JAG officer made an exasperated sound as Purrl Bailey ran up to the Mossad officer and practically leapt into her arms. Mac put her hands on her hips, glaring at the kitten, "Why that - Do you know it was three days before that little imp would even let me pet her again?" Purrl's brother, Bill, had been much more forgiving but then, his attitude had always been more laid-back.

Ziva eyed the Marine uncertainly before extending the kitten, "I am sorry, do you want - ?"

"No, no," Mac sighed and waved a hand, interrupting the apology while offering her own. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you'd done anything wrong." She directed another glare at the kitten, "Miss Bailey is just being a cat." Mac looked back up at Ziva, "May I help you with anything?" She frowned a little when the dark-haired woman glanced away while shifting uncomfortably. Mac stepped forward, gesturing towards the kitchen table, "Why don't you sit down? I'll get us some lemonade."

Ziva shook her head, looking even more uncomfortable, "No, I should not have… Do not bother... "

Mac pointed to a chair, her tone making it an order, "Sit." Once the Mossad officer had complied, Mac turned to the refrigerator. Pulling out the lemonade, she also grabbed a soft cheese and put them on the table. She completed her preparations with a pair of glasses and a box of crackers. After pouring the lemonade, Mac took her seat on the opposite side of the table. Ziva had watched the entire time without saying a word, absently scratching under Purrl's chin.

Mac eyed her for a second, noting the scar left by the laceration on Ziva's forehead before leaning back, sipping her lemonade, "I owe you, you know - more than I think I can ever repay."

If possible, Ziva looked even more uncomfortable. She shook her head slightly, staring down at Purrl, "You owe me nothing. I did nothing. Your family rescued me and themselves."

After a brief silence, Mac tipped her head to the side, "According to my uncle, you went out and faced nearly a dozen men. Those were ridiculous odds. Why didn't you run?"

Ziva's expression turned indignant, "I could not do that! Your family was my responsibility."

Mac took another sip of her lemonade, "Then maybe you should have opened fire first."

"That was not an option," Ziva stared at the JAG officer as if she'd grown a second head, "I knew they could be dangerous but no one appeared to be armed."

"So you stood there and talked to them," Mac pointed out, "And kept their focus on you, knowing what could happen. That was a helluva sacrifice you made for my family."

"And then they put themselves in danger by having to rescue me!" Ziva wasn't quite shouting but her voice had grown in intensity. It was an epic failure on her part. Gibbs hadn't said anything about it and she couldn't understand why.

"They'd been in danger from the moment that bastard, Trask, decided on revenge," Mac replied grimly. "What do you think would have happened if you hadn't been there?"

Ziva opened her mouth and then hesitated. Knowing what those men were capable of in their drunken state was precisely why she'd stood there, aware that she had no chance. In the back of her mind, she supposed she'd counted on O'Hara calling the police. Her efforts had been geared towards delay until help could arrive. After the initial attack, the part of her that could still manage a coherent thought had been shocked at hearing O'Hara's voice challenging the mob. After that, everything had been a surrealistic blur until the woman had talked to her. A woman no one else seemed to have seen or heard… Ziva stared at Mac, finally accepting the explanation she'd been avoiding, "This house - there are ghosts!"

Mac grinned wryly, "So I've been told." She'd gotten the rest of the story the day after their arrival home. Uncle Matt had been matter-of-fact in recounting everything. Mattie had hovered between enthusiasm and trepidation, obviously still worrying how Mac and Harm would react upon hearing of her participation without the buffer of jet-lag. Neither of them had been happy but Mac couldn't fault the teenager's courage. In any case, as she'd just pointed out to Ziva, Mattie would have been in danger even if she and Ellie hadn't taken the fight to the men.

Ziva blinked a little before glancing around and lowering her voice, "A woman talked to me. Told me I needed to stay and wait for Gibbs. Was that - ?"

Mac nodded wordlessly. At first, she'd been surprised as hell to hear what Kate had done for the half-sister of the man who'd murdered her. Then she'd felt a bit guilty. The former agent had never been one to blame a person for someone else's acts. On the other hand, Kate had been fairly close-lipped about it when Mac had finally found herself in Avis' kitchen about midway through the week. Tess had brought it up while she and Phin had been telling their side of defending the house.

"Have you seen them?" The Mossad agent's voice was almost a whisper.

"On occasion," Mac admitted reluctantly. She usually tried to maintain a low profile about these things, although lately, it felt like it was being shouted from the rooftops. Admitting this to Ziva, however, seemed like the right thing to do. The woman was obviously having problems dealing with the attack on their home and if it helped, Mac would handle the possible unwelcome attention. She had a feeling that Ziva wouldn't be spreading this around.

Ziva stared at the Marine silently. Finally, she asked, "Does Gibbs - ?"

Mac raised an eyebrow, "What do you think?"

Ziva leaned back with a thump, raising her hands in exasperation, "He might have warned me." Purrl Bailey protested the sudden move and jumped off Ziva's lap. Sitting on the kitchen floor with her back to both women, she began washing.

Mac rolled her eyes at the kitten before replying as solemnly as she could, "There's probably a rule." She managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds before chuckling. It had always amused her to hear Kate rattle off a rule for practically any situation. Thinking of Kate, Mac sobered a little. When the former NCIS agent learned of the barbecue plans, she decided to make herself scarce saying she didn't feel like tormenting herself by watching her old colleagues. Mac had felt bad about it but Kate was insistent that they hold the party, saying the team deserved it.

Folding her hands and placing them on the table, Ziva finally smiled ruefully, "Those rules - does everyone know them but me?"

"I only know what Kate's told me," Mac replied, shaking her head. She frowned at the suddenly closed expression on Ziva's face and leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice, "I hope you haven't been blaming yourself for what happened to Kate. She wouldn't have wanted that."

Ziva glanced away, her expression bleak, "I don't."

Confused by her reaction, Mac eyed Ziva for a moment before suddenly straightening in surprise, "Oh dear god, you - " Her voice dropped, "I'm so sorry, what a horrible choice to make."

Eyes widening, Ziva stood abruptly, "How - ? Did Gibbs - ?"

"No one said anything," Mac shook her head, staying seated, "I don't know how to explain it. I looked at you and I just - knew. Does anyone else - ?"

"No, only Gibbs," Ziva shook her head, staring intently at Mac. "What do you mean - you just knew?"

Both women couldn't help jumping a bit when the back door banged open and Mattie bounced into the room. Abby was right on her heels, along with Mattie's classmates, Cathy and Brooke, and they were all chattering animately. Purrl Bailey went high, leaping to the counter and then to the top of the refrigerator in one swift move before Mac could get a word out. Laughing, Mattie walked over to pet Purrl, "Sorry, Miss Bailey, we didn't mean to startle you." She turned towards Abby and the girls. "Abby, Cathy, Brooke, meet Miss Purrl Bailey - and that's P-u-r-r-l," she added.

"Aww - she's so cute - great name," Abby reached up to pet Purrl. Turning back, she smiled, "Hey Ziva, Colonel Mac. I love your place. Mattie is going to give us the grand tour. Old houses are so cool - so many nooks and crannies. Did you know that the wall studs back then were spaced according to the length of the foreman's forearm, from his elbow to the tip of his index finger?"

Mac shook her head and smiled easily, "No, and thanks, I'm glad you like the place. Did Mattie mention that the walls are horsehair plaster?" At Abby's questioning look, Mac elaborated, "When they were mixing up the plaster to apply to the walls, they added horsehair for strength."

"Wow, really? How did you know?" Abby was running her hand over the wall by the doorway.

"The former owners mentioned it," Mac said after a tiny pause. "They also said the oak support timbers and boards in the house and barn were logged from the property and taken to a local sawmill."

"Cool, people were so self-sufficient in those days," Abby smiled.

"I think it had more to do with necessity but yeah, it's amazing what people could do," Mac nodded. "Have fun," she added as Mattie led the way out of the kitchen. She stood up and turned back to Ziva with a smile, "I'd better get those hamburgers and hot dogs to Uncle Matt. Are you ready to rejoin the fray?"

Ziva shook her head, "If you do not mind, I think I will stay here for a little bit." She gestured towards her glass, "And finish my lemonade."

Mac nodded, "Stay as long as you like and if you need anything, just yell." She walked outside with the platter of meat.

Sitting back down, Ziva idly rolled the glass of lemonade between her hands while looking around the kitchen. She could still faintly hear Mattie, Abby and the girls talking in the background. Finally, her gaze settled on Purrl, who had made herself comfortable on top of the refrigerator. Ziva smiled slightly while quietly addressing the cat, "So, Miss Bailey, all those odd little noises we heard at night really were ghosts? And you did not say a word?" Bailey half-closed her eyes and began to purr. Ziva nodded, "I will take that as a yes." She fell silent, listening to the purring. It was mesmerizing in a soothing sort of way and Ziva felt her eyelids droop as she finally relaxed. Coming back to the scene of her 'crime' had had her tense and uncomfortable despite the warm welcome she'd received from Matt, Ellie and Mattie.

"Hey Miz David."

Ziva's eyes snapped open at the sound of a woman's voice. She frowned slightly at the older man and woman standing near the kitchen door. They looked like a farming couple, the woman in an old-fashioned, flowered print house dress, the man in a cambric shirt and overalls. "I am sorry, do I know you?"

"We haven't been formally introduced, " the man's voice was deep. "I'm Phin and this here's my wife, Tess. We just wanted to thank you for watching out for this place." Ziva's immediate reaction was to shake her head although she managed to keep the exasperated look off her face. The couple reminded her of her grandparents and she didn't want to be rude. Phin tilted his head to the side, "Now, now, young lady, none of that. Everyone did their part, including you. Evil didn't gain entrance, thanks to you. It would have been a lot worse if they'd gotten inside. You stopped them, Matthew, young Mattie and Miz Ellie kept 'em off-balance and we finished 'em off."

Ziva's eyebrows rose as she stared at the couple, "You?"

"Well, not just us," Tess spoke up with a look at her husband, "But the important thing is that we're grateful for what you did and we wanted to let you know."

Purrl suddenly stood and jumped off the refrigerator, landing on the floor with a thump. Ziva started at the kitten's actions and then blinked when she realized the couple was gone. A moment later, Mattie and her group walked into the kitchen. "Hey Ziva," Abby called cheerfully, "You're still here?"

"Finishing my lemonade," Ziva held up the glass while giving a passable imitation of nonchalance. What had she just seen? Was it real or had she been dreaming?

"Seen any ghosts?" Abby asked, half-turning to Mattie and the others while winking. In doing so, she missed the brief look of shock on Ziva's face.

"Excuse me?" It didn't take much for Ziva to change her expression from surprise to disbelief.

"This house," Abby glanced at Brooke and Cathy again with a smile, "It's a local legend. It's supposed to be haunted. You spent some time here, did you see anything paranormal?"

"Haunted?" Ziva repeated, stalling a bit. She could see that Mattie was projecting her own air of nonchalance.

Abby nodded firmly, "Haunted - as in ghosts." She shot a look at Mattie, "Miss Grace here, will neither confirm nor deny the presence of poltergeists. All she'll admit to is knowing the stories and hearing bumps in the night, so there's no telling if it's a residual or intelligent haunting." Abby's eyes narrowed suddenly as she stared at Ziva, "Does McGee know about this? He's been acting weird ever since he got here."

Ziva snorted as she rose and walked over to the sink with her glass, "McGee? Acting weird? That does not take ghosts." She smiled at the look on Abby's face and took the opportunity to escape. The least she could do for the Rabb family was to not encourage Abby in the pursuit of ghosts. If the chance arose to get Mattie by herself, Ziva would see what she knew about the older farming couple.

o o o o o

Sunday,  
Rabb-McGinley home Falls Church, VA 0030 Local

Exhaling wearily, Mac turned out the light and slid under the covers. "Long day," Harm commented as he shifted so they could nestle together. He couldn't help wincing a little as he moved his bad knee.

Mac frowned in concern, "Is it worse? You were up and down a lot today."

"No worse than the rest of me," Harm sighed. He arched an eyebrow, "We're getting old, MacKenzie."

"Speak for yourself," Mac retorted with a grin. She glanced around the bedroom. It was a full moon tonight and bright, silvery light streamed into the room, creating sharp contrasts. Mac shivered a little at the strong reminder of that night on Massanutten Mountain years ago.

"You okay?" It was Harm's turn to frown in concern. He glanced around the bedroom, wondering if she was seeing more than he was. Everything appeared normal, right down to Bill and Purrl sleeping on the foot of the bed. He took a little comfort in the relaxed attitudes of the cats. Surely they'd be upset if anything weird or dangerous was beginning to manifest.

"Fine. Sorry," Mac nestled in a bit closer. "It's just the moonlight - reminded me of stuff." She turned her head towards him, making herself relax while changing the subject, "I thought the party went well, don't you?" She couldn't quite stifle the yawn at the end as the day's activities caught up with her.

"Yeah, it did," Harm agreed, closing his eyes. He considered himself to be in decent shape but housework was surprisingly exhausting. "Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves," he added sleepily. Some of the groupings had been expected, Duckie and Emma, for instance, or Abby and everybody; others - not so much. He'd been surprised to see Tony DiNozzo and Chandra Stivens engaged in a lively discussion. It turned out she was a movie buff as well. One of Mattie's classmates, Cathy, was a blues fan and absolutely awestruck at meeting Varese.

The singer had been more than gracious and as it grew darker, Mattie brought Harm his guitar and they had an impromptu jam session. Harm and Bud provided the tenor line, Sturgis showed off a passable baritone while Dubby and James Fine filled in at bass. The most surprising members of the group had been Mrs. Cresswell with a light, clear soprano and Ziva David's sultry alto. In between the singing, there'd been a good-natured debate about the name of their back-up group - 'Squiddy Jarheads' had been one suggestion, 'PD and the JAGS' another. Harriet had come up with the winning name, 'LawDawgs'. Varese had laughingly declined to take them on the road with her.

The party had eventually wound down and the last of the guests had finally left about forty-five minutes ago. After putting away the leftover food and securing the trash, Harm and Mac decided to tackle the rest of the clean-up in the morning. Yawning, Harm settled deeper into the pillows, pulling Mac in a bit closer. As he drifted off, he smiled slightly wondering how he'd ever managed to sleep without Mac beside him.

wouldn't let me post this in its entirety. Pt. 2 will be up next. 


	34. Epilogue Pt 2 corr

Epilogue - Pt. 2

2 Weeks Later Friday,  
Rabb-McGinley home Falls Church, VA 1810 Local

Mac pulled into the parking area near the house, frowning slightly at the nondescript, white Ford sedan. As far as she knew, they weren't expecting company. Harm hadn't mentioned anyone being here when she called to let him know she was finishing up a case and would be a bit late. Turning off the Corvette, she grabbed her briefcase as she climbed out and headed into the house. Entering the foyer, Mac leaned down to pet Patch and then Bill and Purrl when they appeared while calling out, "I'm home." At least the furry contingent of their household didn't indicate there was anything amiss. She directed a quick wave towards the staircase having caught faint distortion out of the corner of her eye. She was learning it was easier to spot the presence of the McGinleys using her peripheral vision. Mac was pretty sure it was them. The couple had a tendency to shadow her when she first arrived home in the evenings. Avis and Kate only appeared at need or when Mac dreamed herself into Avis' kitchen.

Harm stepped out into hallway, smiling, "Hey, you made it." He limped up the hall and Mac met him halfway, exchanging a hug and a quick kiss.

"Who's here?" Mac asked, her arm still wrapped around his waist.

"A Mrs. Leela Howell," Harm replied, looking down at her, "from Social Services." He gave Mac a reassuring smile when she inhaled sharply, "Don't panic, she seems very nice. Come on, she's been waiting to meet you."

"Me?" Mac didn't move, feeling inexplicably nervous. All the old feelings of inadequacy that she thought she'd conquered long ago, came rushing back.

"Hey," Harm said softly, wrapping his arms around her again. He could feel the tension in her and had a pretty good idea what was going through her mind. When she looked up at him, he gave her a soft smile, "Stop doing that. You're a wonderful person and everything's going to be fine."

Exhaling with a sigh, Mac nodded. Squaring her shoulders, she let Harm lead her to the living room. As they entered, a petite Latino woman broke off her conversation with Matt and Mattie and turned to them with a smile. Harm stepped forward to make the introductions, "Mrs. Howell, I'd like you to meet my wife, Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie Rabb. Mac, Mrs. Leela Howell with Social Services."

"A pleasure to meet you, Colonel," Mrs. Howell said with a smile as they shook hands. "Emma Fine speaks very highly of you and your family."

Mac relaxed a little, smiling back, "Emma's a wonderful lady."

Mrs. Howell chuckled, "Providing you're not in her crosshairs. Some of her battles with the Powers That Be have been legendary." She leaned in slightly and stage-whispered, "By the way, I'm a fellow Orphan, too."

Mac's grin grew wider, "We're going to have to invent some sort of secret handshake or something."

"We should," Mrs. Howell nodded with a laugh. She gestured towards the couch and chairs, "Why don't we all sit and get down to business?" Once everyone was settled, she pulled a folder out of her briefcase. "Now you've applied to become foster parents," Mrs. Howell flipped through a couple of papers, glancing up at all of them. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this but your application has been expedited at Emma's request - and your list of references was very impressive." She folded her hands, looking at Harm and Mac, "However, there are a few issues that need to be addressed. You're in the military - what happens if one or both of you is deployed or transferred?"

Harm leaned back, draping an arm across the back of the couch, "I've put in my intent to retire. In six more months, I'll be a civilian. I plan to open my own firm so I will be able to work from home if necessary."

"There's probably a higher chance of my being transferred as opposed to being deployed," Mac added when Harm finished speaking. "I'm a lawyer, not a line officer." She glanced at Harm before looking back at Mrs. Howell, "Is that a real problem? We're a family, it's not like we'd leave a child behind wherever we'd go."

"Well, it is a consideration. These kids typically have already had enough upheavals and we try not to put them through any more if we can help it." She hesitated, looking apologetic, "And there's Mr. O'Hara." In the sudden silence, she took a deep breath, "He's a convicted felon."

"He's a former Marine officer and a Medal of Honor winner," Mac rejoined, her temper beginning to flare, "And one of the most honorable, courageous men I know."

"Sarah," Matt interrupted mildly, "It's a legitimate point."

"So is the fact that you served your time and received a Presidential pardon," Harm replied, before looking at Mrs. Howell. "What exactly are you asking us to do?"

The woman raised her hands, "Nothing, really. I'm just trying to make you aware that there could be obstacles to receiving final approval. We're trying to do the best we can for these children. How would it look if we placed a child in a home with an ex-convict?"

"And appearance is so much more important than facts." Mac stood up, her voice icy cold, "Well, if 'best' means breaking up my family in order to take in a child, then forget it. It's not worth the price." She stalked out of the room.

Matt and Harm looked at each other silently before Matt stood up, "I'll talk to her." He walked out, leaving Harm and Mattie with Mrs. Howell.

Mattie glared at the social worker, "What's wrong with you people? Uncle Matt's a great role model. He knows how to listen and I can talk to him about all kinds of stuff. Did anyone even bother talking to him?" Growing more agitated, she stood up waving her arms, "And how come no one came to interview me if you were wondering how Harm and Mac would be as foster parents? Because, let me tell you, they're great. They love me even though I'm not their kid and even when I screw up. They're tough when they have to be and fair. I'm lucky to have them and so would any other kid and if you can't see that - well, then you're pretty stupid."

"Mattie, that was rude. Apologize, please," Harm ordered sternly. "Mrs. Howell is the messenger, not the one making the decisions. We're all upset but don't take it out on her."

Mattie stared at him defiantly for a moment before deflating and turning to Mrs. Howell, "I'm sorry for being rude." She glanced back at Harm, "May I be excused?" When Harm nodded, she hurried from the room.

"Sorry about that," Harm sighed. "We had our hopes set on becoming foster parents and perhaps adopting some kids down the road. This was kind of a shock."

Mrs. Howell smiled slightly, "I'm sorry, too, but don't give up hope yet. Believe it or not, I'm in your corner. It's the higher-ups that are making the fuss. After that tragedy last year with the child committing suicide in her foster home and then the abuse that was uncovered, everyone's being overly cautious."

Harm nodded slowly, "I remember reading about some of that in the papers and on-line. The parents were also scamming the department with the help of a supervisor? Getting payments for fictitious kids?"

"Quite a few heads rolled on that one," Ms. Howell replied grimly, "And well they should. The authorities are still investigating. Unfortunately, that's left the surviving management with a bunker mentality and the rest of us even more short-handed." She began gathering up her papers and putting them in her briefcase.

Harm watched her silently for a few moments before leaning forward, "So the biggest sticking point is having Matthew in our household?"

Mrs. Howell looked up and nodded, frowning slightly, "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"And if he wasn't living here, it wouldn't be an issue?" Harm asked.

"Correct," Mrs. Howell tipped her head slightly, "But from your wife's reaction, I didn't think his leaving was an option."

"What if he was living nearby? Would that count?" Harm replied.

Mrs. Howell stopped collecting her files and eyed him closely, "Well, technically, we don't concern ourselves with specific neighbors, just the neighborhood in general. You know, is it safe? Is it stable?"

"So if he happened to be living next door - ?" Harm smiled at her hopefully.

She smiled back, "If he's not living here, I'm not interested in tracking him down."

"How long does this approval process take?" Harm leaned back on the couch.

"Well, it could take two to four - ," she saw him shake his head slightly, "- perhaps six to eight weeks to get to the final decision." She put the last folder in her briefcase and stood up. "So I'll see you in two months?"

Harm stood up and held out a hand, "Two months." He raised an eyebrow, "And after approval, how soon - ?"

"Could happen fairly quickly." Mrs. Howell grinned and shook his hand.

o o o o o

Matt paused at the front door and looked out on the porch. Sarah was standing at the corner, arms folded, staring out at the trees. Even at this distance, he could see the tension in her shoulders. Taking a breath, he squared his shoulders and walked out to join her. Stopping alongside, he rested his hands on the railing and waited. After a minute, her shoulders relaxed as she dropped her arms and she gave him a rueful look, "I hate when you do that."

Matt raised an eyebrow, "Do what?"

"Call me on my behavior without saying anything," Mac ducked her head. "I shouldn't have lost my temper with Mrs. Howell."

Matt tipped his head to the side, "Well, you were defending me and I suppose it was a bit of a surprise, although it shouldn't have been."

Mac turned and looked at him, "What?"

Matt straightened up as he faced her, "Sarah, you look at me and see your uncle, the man who was a Marine officer who took you camping now and then, but to a stranger? I'm a man who went to prison for a crime that saw two men die and got out on a pardon, not on parole or because I'd served all my time. Wouldn't you think twice before putting a child with me?"

Mac folded her arms again, "Maybe, but if I was doing my job, I'd be investigating you to see what type of man you were before making that decision. And for the record, I see my uncle - the only family that ever gave a damn about me as well as providing a role model for what I could be. I don't think I would have survived much longer if you hadn't stepped in when you did. Any kid would be lucky to know you."

Matt ducked his head a little, flushing. He turned to look out at the trees again, clearing his throat, "You know, Ellie and I have been getting to know each other and so far, it's been going pretty well."

Mac frowned slightly at the apparent change of subject, "I'm glad to hear it. Ellie's a wonderful lady."

Matt shot her a grin, "I think so, too." He looked away again, "The thing is, it's a little hard finding a bit of privacy. I mean, we can go to her place but I'd like to return the favor sometimes." Matt glanced at Mac and turned towards her, seeing the stricken look on her face, "Hey, I'm not suggesting a move to Timbuktu, just maybe getting my own place. An old friend of mine runs a corporate travel service, said he could always use a good helicopter pilot. I hadn't really thought about it before what with everything that's been going on, but I could go talk to him again, see if the offer's still on the table."

Mac stood there staring at him and Matt stepped forward, wrapping her in a hug. She hugged him back fiercely, whispering, "I don't want you to go. I just got you back."

"I wouldn't be going far," Matt answered gently. "And you know I'll always be there when you need me. You and Harm would be great parents and I don't want to be the reason you two don't get the chance. So, let me do this for you," he grinned a little, "Consider it a belated wedding present - I didn't have time to get one before." The sound of Harm's voice gave them a bit of warning. Matt broke the hug, turning a little to shield Mac while she took a swipe at her eyes and composed herself.

Harm held the door for Mrs. Howell and then followed her out onto the porch. Smiling, he shook hands with her again, "We'll keep in touch."

Mrs. Howell smiled in return, "I'd appreciate that. I'll keep you in the loop as well." Turning towards the steps, she nodded to Matt and Mac, "Mr. O'Hara, Colonel Rabb, it was a pleasure meeting you." With that, she walked down the steps to her car. A few minutes later, she disappeared down the driveway.

Mac turned to Harm, staring at him, "What did you do?"

He grinned at the two of them, "We reached a compromise." He waved a hand towards the house, "Come back in, we can hash the details out over dinner. I'm starved."

o o o o o

Matt rubbed his chin, looking thoughtfully at Harm, "Mrs. Howell was okay with this?"

Harm nodded, spearing several baby carrots, "Their biggest problem is having you physically living in the house. It's a technicality, but this way, we all win. You get your own place without being far away, Social Services can't really complain and we free up an extra bedroom." He looked at Mac and Mattie, "What do you think?"

"I think it's a great idea!" Mattie beamed.

Mac nodded slowly, "In two months? Is that possible?"

Harm waved a hand, "The structure's sound and there's already electric and water running to it - it's just a matter of converting it. Offer pizza and beer and we could probably get some help from friends on the weekends."

Mac raised an eyebrow, "Throw another party? BYOP - bring your own powertools?"

"Why not? It'll be a modern version of a barn-raising." Harm chuckled, "Or barn-razing, as the case may be. We'll contract out what we need to make sure we're up to code and we can handle the rest." He looked at Matt, "We'll need to figure out the barn dimensions and draw up some plans. We can start first thing in the morning."

Mattie raised a hand, "We'll need to clear stuff out, too. I can help with that. I'll bet we can recycle a lot of it."

Mac was tapping her chin thoughtfully, "You know, Dubby's son-in-law here in DC is an architect. I'm sure he wouldn't mind recommending a contractor to help us."

Harm grinned, looking around the table, "I'd say we have a plan."

o o o o o

3 Months Later Friday,  
Rabb-McGinley home Falls Church, VA 0920 Local

Mac walked through the living room, absently rearranging throw pillows and straightening books. Harm watched her silently from the doorway. He decided not to say anything, knowing she was working off nervous energy. More than the rest of them, she was acutely aware of each minute as it dragged by. He was feeling nervous himself, despite repeatedly telling himself there was no reason for it. Everything was going to be fine. Matt was out of the house, living in his new apartment, built in the front half of the old barn. The back portion was now a garage and storage area. He still ate dinner with the family almost every evening unless he and Ellie were going out. The two were dating regularly now and Harm thought Ellie was doing the man a world of good. Mac was finally fully onboard with her uncle's relationship. Although she hadn't come right out and said it earlier, Harm knew she'd been afraid that Matt move on and walk out of her life again. It was an irrational fear but understandable, given her past. Fortunately, Matt was well aware of his niece's deep-seated worries and did his best to reassure her.

Speaking of irrational, Harm snorted quietly while checking his watch again. Leela Howell wasn't due to arrive until somewhere between 0930 and 1000. Checking the time every few minutes wasn't going to make her show up any sooner nor did it mean that she wasn't going to show at all. Turning around, Harm headed for the stairs. It wouldn't hurt to check the bedroom again and make sure everything was still in place. Items moved regularly in the house and it was becoming nearly second-nature to return whatever it was to its spot while walking through. It was also becoming normal to hear unexplained thumps and an occasional voice. There was the time Patch had carefully crept up on a sleeping Purrl and Bill and barked, sending both cats rocketing into orbit. It had triggered laughter from more than the living members of the family.

Harm frowned a little as he reached the second floor and headed down the hallway. Looking around, he spoke quietly, "Can we tone down the paranormal stuff for a little while? I don't want Lucas scared out of his mind right off the bat. He's going to have enough to adjust to without worrying about ghosts." Harm couldn't help feeling a bit foolish - he always did when addressing their home's original occupants - but he wasn't sure if Mac had said anything either. She hadn't mentioned any dream visits to Avis' kitchen lately. Stopping in the doorway, he looked around the bedroom. Everything appeared to be okay. The room was a bit plain but Mac thought Lucas would enjoy having some say in decorating.

Lucas Dixon was ten years old and had been in the foster care system for nearly half his life. His mother had died at birth and his father was a merchant seaman. Lucas' grandmother had taken care of him while his father traveled. That arrangement had become permanent when his father's ship was lost in a storm off the coast of Africa. A year later, when Lucas was six, his grandmother suffered a massive stroke. She lingered for a few days before passing. His only other family was a older half-brother from his father's first marriage. Ten years older, Christopher Dixon was a guest of the state of Virginia, incarcerated on drug and weapon charges. With no other living relations, Lucas found himself a ward of the state.

It hadn't been an easy transition. Small for his age and frightened at the turn his life had taken, Lucas had been an easy target for the older kids. Now, four years later, he'd been in and out of several foster homes, his attitude caught between angry and sullen. Needless to say, his story had resonated with both Mac and Harm when they heard about him. Their first interview with the boy had been less than triumphant. Lucas, after a look from Leela Howell, had been polite but apathetic. The second interview hadn't been much better. This time Lucas had been suspicious and defensive, obviously intent on protecting himself. After discussing it with both Mattie and Matt, the family was unanimous about taking the young man in. Lucas appeared unmoved when he learned he was about to live in yet another foster home.

Patch's barking stirred Harm from his thoughts and he hurried down the hallway and stairs, meeting Mac and Mattie in the foyer. Sharing a look with Mac, Harm smiled reassuringly and held the door for the two. Descending the porch steps, they joined Matthew and Patch who were waiting at the bottom. Together, they watched as Leela Howell parked her Ford. After what seemed like an eternity, both front doors opened and Leela and Lucas climbed out. Gesturing for him to join her, Leela pulled the trunk release and walked to the back of the car. Pulling out a small suitcase, she handed it to him and then, putting an arm around his shoulders, walked him to the waiting family.

Leela smiled as they stopped in front of the little group, "Here he is." She gave Lucas a quick squeeze, making him raise his eyes from his shoes, "Lucas, say hello to your new family." Lucas mumbled something nearly inaudible as his eyes dropped to the ground again.

Harm glanced at Mac and received her silent approval to take the lead. He stepped forward, smiling warmly, "Welcome to our home, Lucas. I hope you'll consider it your home as well." Placing a hand lightly on the boy's shoulders, he urged him forward a step, "I'd like you to meet the rest of the family." He gestured a little and Mattie and Matthew moved up, "This is my ward, Mattie Grace, and Mac's uncle, Matthew O'Hara."

"Hi Lucas," Mattie smiled brightly at the boy. "I hope you like it here. Harm and Mac are good people." Lucas eyed her warily, giving his head a minute nod.

"Lucas." Matthew gave Lucas' hand a firm shake, "Glad to have you aboard. We've needed a good man to even the odds a bit." He leaned in, dropping his voice, "The women here have us outnumbered." Seeing the disbelief on Lucas's face as his eyes darted over the group, Matthew grinned and nodded towards Patch, "That's Patch and despite that beard, she's a girl, too." Hearing her name, Patch got up and walked to Lucas, shoving a nose under his hand. When he rubbed her head, she whined softly as she sat on his foot and leaned against his legs, angling her head so he could scratch behind her ears. When Lucas obliged, Matthew smiled at him, "I'd say you've got a new friend." For the first time, Lucas smiled a little in return.

Harm shared a relieved look with Leela, Mac and Mattie and cleared his throat, "Lucas? How about we get you settled in your room? Then you can look around if you'd like and we can have lunch a little later on."

Lucas nodded slowly. "Can Patch come with me?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Mac nodded firmly, "She's part of the family."

Leela grinned, "Well, I think I'll be on my way. Call if you need anything and I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

"Thank you so much," Mac smiled warmly at her.

She started to escort Leela to her car but the woman waved her off, pointing to the little troop heading for the house, "Go join your family, Colonel, I'm fine." Thanking Leela once again, Mac hurried to catch up with the rest of the family. Getting settled didn't take long, Lucas didn't have much. A few clothes and a worn folding picture frame showing a middle-aged man and a smiling old woman, obviously his father and grandmother.

Mattie had taken over once Lucas was unpacked, taking him on a grand tour of the property. Patch went along, leaving the three adults. Matt smiled at his niece and Harm, "So far, so good. He seems to be unbending a bit."

"Patch helped a lot," Mac nodded happily. "Thanks for sharing her."

"Her idea - I think she's hoping for a playmate," Matt chuckled. "She's still pretty young and I'm just too old to run and roughhouse with her."

"Whatever works," Harm declared with a grin. He looked from Matt to Mac, "So when do we tell him about the McGinleys? Before or after something weird happens?"

"Maybe we should wait a day or so," Mac said slowly. "I'd hate to overwhelm him any more than he already is. At least they like kids. Tess mentioned that they enjoy seeing a full house."

"You're assuming Mattie won't say something," Matt raised an eyebrow. "She's pretty nonchalant about her 'extra grandparents'. I wouldn't be surprised if she talks about them."

Harm nodded as he frowned thoughtfully, "Actually, hearing it from Mattie might be best. He could take his cue from her on dealing with them."

"I guess we'll play it by ear." Mac tugged on Harm's arm with a grin, "Come on, let's see what we can whip up for lunch."

o o o o o

Friday,  
Rabb-McGinley home Falls Church, VA 2340 Local

Mac climbed quietly back into bed and pulled up the covers. Harm turned over and regarded her sleepily, "Everything okay?"

She nodded, "He's still asleep. Bill's staying with him."

Harm frowned, glancing at the foot of the bed. Sure enough, Purrl was settling down by herself. "I thought those two were a set. How'd you get him to stay with Lucas?"

Mac shrugged, "I didn't. It was all Bill. I think Lucas was happy to have him when Patch left with Uncle Matt." The cats were now half-grown and in their lanky teenage stage. Bill was rapidly passing Purrl in size. It was apparent he was going to be a large, long-legged cat and Harm had jokingly accused the feline of having panther in him somewhere. Fortunately, Lucas appeared to like cats as much as he liked dogs. He'd been pleased when all three of the household's pets had followed him to his new room.

"Does that mean Lucas has the feline stamp of approval?" Harm yawned, settling back down. He lifted an arm so Mac could slide in next to him.

"I guess," Mac tucked herself against his side, draping an arm across his chest and nestling her head on his shoulder. For some reason, having Bill apparently adopt Lucas was reassuring. She leaned up to give Harm a quick kiss, "G'night."

"'Night," he murmured back, his eyes already closed. Mac followed suit as she relaxed. It had been a long day. They were starting a new chapter in their lives and it appeared the road would be a bit bumpy for a while. It would take time for Lucas to become comfortable but Mac thought they'd made some progress. Both she and Harm had taken leave today and Monday to give them a long weekend to get settled with Lucas. They'd contacted the school he'd be attending last week to get things started and they'd take him on Monday to enroll. Mac had a list of school supplies he'd need and planned to take him shopping over the weekend. While silently reviewing all the things that needed to be done, Mac gradually drifted off to sleep.

"Hello, Sarah."

Mac turned around and smiled, "Avis, hi." They were standing near the flower beds on the side of the house. A rustling drew Mac's attention and she rolled her eyes when a large black hen strolled out from under a bush. She flashed a look at Avis and raised an eyebrow, "Really? She's still here?"

Avis shrugged, still smiling, "What can I say? Mabel was always a strong personality."

"That's not exactly the phrase I'd use to describe her," Mac replied dryly. Her expression lightened, "What do you think of Lucas?"

"He's a fine young man," Avis said warmly. She turned and started towards the back door, "Come with me, there's someone you should meet."

Frowning slightly, Mac followed along. She had halfway expected something like this given Lucas' history but wasn't sure which one might be waiting. Reaching the kitchen door, Mac walked in behind Avis and smiled at the little group gathered around the kitchen table. Not surprisingly, both Jolly Roger and Purrl were perched near the stove. Roger looked a bit miffed, his tail lashing lightly. With Attilla the Hen, roaming about, Mac could sympathize. Kate, Phin and Tess all got up to greet her, leaving an older woman seated at the table.

Avis waited until Mac had finished with the others before stepping next to the woman, "Sarah, I'd like you to meet Comfort Dixon, Lucas' grandmother."

"Mrs. Dixon," Mac nodded politely while wondering if this was yet another ghost who would be inhabiting their home. Surely there had to be a limit of some sort.

"Pleased, my dear," the old woman extended her hand. She held on after Mac shook it, her expression fierce, "You take care of my grandson, you hear? That poor boy has had a hard time."

"Yes, ma'am, I intend to," Mac answered seriously, shooting a look at Avis. The blonde returned her look calmly. Obviously, this tete-a-tete was strictly between Mac and Mrs. Dixon.

Mrs. Dixon released her grip and waved her hand a little, "Now, I loved my son and he was a good man and I can certainly understand why he did what he did but Lucas shouldn't have had to shoulder the blame. I did my best but Lucas is a smart little boy and I knew it gnawed at him."

"What did?" Mac frowned, perplexed.

"His mother," Mrs. Dixon frowned, too. "My son loved his wife with all his heart and when she died giving birth to Lucas, it just broke him. He couldn't help blaming the child. I talked and talked to him but it didn't do any good. He started signing on for more and longer voyages, anything that would take him away from Lucas and the memories of his wife." The old woman sighed, "Lucas figured it out eventually - that child has never really been young - and he began blaming himself, too. I did what I could to teach him otherwise but then Joshua was lost at sea and Lucas found something else to blame himself for. Then I went and died on him, too, and Lucas became a ward of the state."

"That poor kid," Mac shook her head. Her childhood hadn't been a bed of roses but she'd managed to avoid the foster care system. Her life might have been less traumatic had she become a ward of the state but she probably wouldn't have become a Marine either, which meant she'd have never met Harm. That wasn't worth thinking about.

"You must be patient," Mrs. Dixon declared firmly, locking eyes with Mac. "He's afraid to let himself get attached. Don't let him push you away."

"We won't," Mac replied, equally firm.

Mrs. Dixon eyed her for a moment before nodding with a grim smile, "I believe you." She stood up, turning to Avis, "Thank you kindly, Mrs. Simpson. I'm feeling much better and now I need to be getting back." After exchanging good-byes with Kate and the McGinleys, the old woman vanished from sight.

Mac stared at the place where the old woman had been. It was always a bit unnerving watching someone who had appeared fairly solid just fade away, even in a dream. She turned to Avis, "Has Mrs. Dixon been following Lucas all this time?"

Avis nodded, "She has but until now, she hasn't been able to make contact in any way. Lucas has been remarkably resistant to dreams."

Mac glanced at Kate and the McGinleys before folding her arms and looking at Avis again, "Is Mrs. Dixon going to cause problems?"

"No," Avis shook her head. "We've already discussed it. She'll keep an eye on him but won't try to interfere."

"Okay," Mac relaxed a little in relief before bracing for her next question. She wasn't sure if Avis would or could answer it. "Is there anything else I need to worry about?"

Avis raised an eyebrow, "Aside from a defensive ten year-old boy? No, I've not seen anything." She waved her hands, "Go back to sleep, Sarah. You need your rest. It's going to be a busy day."

o o o o o

Harm blinked and stared up at the ceiling. Yawning, he looked over at Mac. She was restless, mumbling in her sleep although he couldn't make out the words. Turning on his side, he glanced down at the foot of the bed. Purrl was stretched out, her paws twitching as if she was chasing dream mice. Yawning again, Harm draped his arm across Mac's midsection and watched her as he waited for sleep to come again. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out, and he indulged himself as he gazed at her. He couldn't do this when she was awake, Mac tended to get uncomfortable when he stared at her. Mac shifted again and he wondered if this was a dream that involved Avis and Kate. With Lucas spending his first night in his new home, this would certainly be a good time for an otherworldly consult.

Harm frowned slightly as he thought of something else. Mac hadn't had any disturbing visions or dreams lately, that he knew of, but did that mean they were relatively safe for the time being? Would Avis know, and more importantly, would she say anything? They'd run out of leads on whoever was behind the drunken mob's assault on their home so that person was still out there. Mac's choice had been Edwina McKlellan but Harm hadn't forgotten Margery Threetrails. Don Eppes believed she was behind the hiring of Trask and his investigative firm although there was no way to prove it. Harm doubted that she'd been aware of Trask's true identity or his connection to the JAG officers so the debacle in Bacovia wasn't truly her fault. On the other hand, he thought it was pretty clear she wasn't intending to let Bander's death go unavenged. That her first move had been to gather intel showed that she was willing to be patient. That trait combined with power and money made for a formidable enemy. Harm had said as much to Don the last time they talked. Ian, Don and Charlie had to be in her sights as well. Eppes had assured Harm that he was well aware of the threat and would keep an eye on his brother. Ian needed no protection.

Finally closing his eyes, Harm drifted back to sleep. Soon he found himself in a familiar mountain meadow. Somewhat surprised, Harm turned around and started when he discovered Avis standing nearby. Stiffening a little, he stared at her, "What's wrong? Is Mac okay?"

Avis held up her hands in a calming motion, "Sarah is fine, aside from some expected anxiety about being a mother. You seemed uncommonly worried."

Harm rubbed the back of his neck, "I got to thinking about the enemies we've made over the years. Have we done the right thing with Lucas?"

"Opening your home to a little boy who desperately needs to be loved again? Of course, you have," Avis smiled at him. "Lucas is an old soul. Be patient and all of you will reap the rewards."

Harm eyed her, "Is this something you've seen?"

"It is something anyone with eyes can see. Relax, Harmon Rabb, and enjoy having a son. We'll keep watch." Avis raised a hand and vanished. Harm exhaled softly and descended deeper into sleep.

o o o o o

Saturday, Rabb-McGinley home Falls Church, VA 0720 Local

Lucas opened his eyes and held perfectly still, taking in his surroundings. A few seconds later, he heard a rumbling purr and relaxed, lifting his head. Bill Bailey gazed back, his eyes half-closed as his purr increased in volume. Lucas sat up, rubbing his eyes before smiling and reaching over to pet the cat. He wasn't sure about the Rabbs or if this was going to last any longer than any of his other foster homes but Bill and Patch were an added bonus for however much time he had there. Bill stood and stretched before jumping down off the bed. Sauntering to the door, he stopped and looked back at Lucas, his meaning clear.

Smiling, Lucas threw the covers back and climbed out of bed. Going to the door, he took a look up and down the hallway. Was it okay to leave his room? A rather plaintive meow from Bill decided him and Lucas followed the cat down the hallway. From there, his nose led him the rest of the way to the kitchen.

Hearing Patch get up, Matt turned to find Lucas standing uncertainly in the doorway. Gruffly, he motioned the boy in and pointed to a chair. Turning back to the stove, he flipped over the pancakes. Matt glanced over his shoulder, "You want some?" When Lucas nodded, Matt piled a short stack onto a plate and held it out, "This enough?"

"Yes sir," Lucas spoke quietly. Bill was sitting on one side while Patch had staked a spot on the other side of his chair.

Matt poured a glass of orange juice to go with the pancakes and brought both over to Lucas. Returning to the stove, he fixed his own plate and then joined Lucas at the table. He raised an eyebrow at both animals, "No begging at the table, you two." Matt and Lucas began eating. After a few mouthfuls, Matt glanced over at the boy, "Taste okay?" Lucas nodded silently, keeping his attention on his plate. Matt took a sip of his orange juice before remarking thoughtfully, "The first couple of days are always the hardest. It used to take me a day or two to get used to waking in a strange place."

Lucas looked at him for a moment, "You were a foster kid, too?"

Matt shook his head, "Military. During the war in 'Nam, they kept us moving pretty regularly." He grinned at Lucas, "At least no one's shooting at you here."

"You were a soldier?" Lucas knew the Rabbs were in the military and he wasn't sure how that would affect him. Was he supposed to stand at attention when he saw them?

Matt took on a look of mock horror, "Bite your tongue. I was a Marine." Lucas couldn't help smiling a little. Matt relaxed and smiled as well before taking another bite of his pancakes. After swallowing, he looked at Lucas again, "I have a favor to ask of you, young man." He held up a hand when Lucas stared at him in alarm and then pointed towards Patch, "Patch here is still pretty young and energetic and, well, I'm not. If you want to, it'd help me out a lot if you'd play with her. She loves to run and I just can't keep up. What do you say?"

Lucas nodded with a shy grin, "Yes sir, I'd be happy to." His hand drifted over to stroke Patch's head in an almost proprietary manner. She'd sat up upon hearing her name. He went back to eating and after a few minutes, the faintest hint of a frown appeared.

Matt studied him for a moment, "Did you want to ask me something?" Lucas shifted in his seat, staring at his plate again. Matt ate some more of his breakfast, thinking it over and then grimaced. "Lucas?" he asked, carefully. "Has a grown-up ever tried to do something - um, inappropriate with you?" When Lucas froze, Matt swore silently, "Did you tell anyone - like Ms. Howell?" Lucas gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, his face flushing. Matt swore again and leaned towards Lucas with a fierce expression, "That's never going to happen again - not while you're under this roof. You're one of us now and we protect our own, understand?" A sharp bang accentuated his words, startling them both. Matt glanced upwards before sitting back with wry expression, "I'd say the house has spoken as well. You're safe here, Lucas."

Lucas stared at him with wide eyes. He couldn't help jumping again when the screen door on the porch banged. A moment later, Mac walked in, still sweating from her early morning run. She smiled at Lucas and Matt while leaning down to pet Patch and Bill, "Morning, guys. Lucas, did you sleep okay?" When the boy nodded, Mac walked over to give Matt a kiss on the cheek, "Thanks for taking over breakfast, Uncle Matt. I got a late start this morning."

"Not a problem, Sarah," Matt wrinkled his nose, "Go get cleaned up and I'll start another batch of pancakes."

"Okay, I'll roust Harm and Mattie out of bed if they're not already. It's housekeeping day." Mac grinned and patted Lucas' shoulder as she passed him, "After lunch, you and I will do some shopping. You need to be ready for school on Monday." Still smiling, Mac walked out of the kitchen.

Matt watched as Lucas' eyes followed Mac out the door. He waited until the boy had turned back around and smiled, "I know it's all new right now but if you let her, Sarah will happy to be your mom."

Lucas stared at Matt, thinking it over. He was beginning to feel more comfortable around the gruff old man. He didn't fully trust him yet but really, how bad could he be if Patch was so devoted to him? Deciding to take a chance, he tilted his head a little and asked the question that had been plaguing him the most, "Why did Mr. and Mrs. Rabb want me? Everybody else wants the babies."

Matt rubbed his chin, "Well, they thought you needed a home and they understand what you've been through." He leaned in a little, dropping his voice a bit, "Harm's father was a Navy pilot during the Vietnam war. He was shot down and declared missing in action when Harm was only five. Sarah's father was a mean-tempered drunk and her mother - my dear sister - finally ran away from the abuse, leaving Sarah behind. She was only fifteen at the time." Matt leaned back again, "So you see, they've both had hard childhoods and they don't like seeing anyone else go through what they did." His voice softened, "Just give them a chance and they'll love you like you were their own."

Lucas nodded silently, swallowing against the unexpected lump in his throat. Bill's sudden appearance on his lap gave him something to focus on and he concentrated fiercely on petting the cat. Patch's insistent whining forced Lucas to divide his attention but Bill didn't seem to mind. His loud purring was audible even to Matt. Deciding to give Lucas a few moments, Matt got up and moved to the counter. Mixing up some more batter, he began cooking another round of pancakes. Soon the sounds of voices and footsteps were heard. Mattie breezed in first, giving Matt quick kiss on the cheek along with a cheery 'good morning'. From there she turned to Lucas, combining a hug with an equally cheerful greeting that extended to Patch and Bill. Completing her circuit near the sink, Mattie poured herself a glass of orange juice and returned to sit at the table. Lucas watched her in silent amazement before his attention was claimed by Harm and Mac walking in together.

They were smiling at each other like they'd just shared a good joke before directing their attention to everyone else in the room. After a quick glance at Matt and wIth one hand resting on Bill, Lucas tentatively joined in the conversation. Soon he found himself laughing along with Matt and Mattie as Harm did his comic best to get out of housecleaning. Lucas couldn't help the warm happiness that spread through him as he was seamlessly included in the group. It had been so long he'd nearly forgotten the feeling. This was a family and now it was his.

This is getting silly - have to break the file up again. Stay tuned for Pt. 3. 


	35. Epilogue Pt 3 corr

Epilogue - Pt. 3

Monday, LAX Los Angeles, CA 1025 Local

The plane stopped moving and Edwina McKlellan unbuckled her seatbelt. She remained in her seat, content to let the other passengers get off first. She was in no hurry to reach her destination. Throughout the entire flight, she'd been pondering her decision. There was an inevitability about it that was somewhat unnerving. If she went through with this, her life would irrevocably change and she was ambivalent as to whether that was a good thing or not. Shaking her head, she realized the last of the passengers was filing past. Not wanting to be noticed, Edwina stood up, slinging her purse over her shoulder and retrieved her briefcase from the overhead. Joining the end of the line, she nodded automatically to the flight crew and entered the skyway. Once inside the concourse, she turned and followed the crowd towards the baggage claim.

After pulling out her suitcase, Edwina turned towards the gaggle of drivers holding up signs. She frowned when she saw her name on not one but two of the placards. She'd engaged a limo service before leaving for LA, who else was sending a car? She'd hadn't told anyone she was coming out to the west coast and had waited until only two days ago to make her arrangements. A tiny mixture of anger and fear began to grow, who the hell was watching her? Straightening up slightly, she marched up to the two men. She'd be damned if she'd let anyone see her rattled. After identifying the driver she hired, Edwina turned to the other man and raised an eyebrow, "Who sent you?"

He tipped his head, "I'm sorry, ma'am. I was told was to tell you that coming with me would answer your questions. I don't know anything else."

Edwina folded her arms, "If you don't know anything else, how do you know where to take me?"

The man flushed as the other limo driver sniggered quietly. Edwina stood silently, her face impassive. "Ma'am, I misspoke. I received my instructions from my supervisor. If you agree, I'm to take you to a meeting location and after that, I will take you anywhere you wish to go."

He fell silent while Edwina thought it over. Finally she nodded slowly, "All right." Turning to the other driver, she pulled out her wallet and extracted a fifty-dollar bill, "Sorry for wasting your time." After he left, Edwina gestured to the remaining driver, "Let's go." He nodded and picked up her suitcase, leading the way out of the terminal. They didn't speak again as he drove into LA.

Edwina sat back, watching the scenery while trying to decide if she'd taken complete leave of her senses. Maybe it was the California air that had made her so reckless. For all she knew, the driver could be some sort of homicidal maniac who preyed on single, wealthy women. He could be planning how to slit her throat at this very moment. Edwina shifted uncomfortably, clutching her purse a bit tighter. Thanks to the damn air travel regulations, about the only items she had to defend herself with were a pen and a hairbrush. She had a concealed carry permit and ordinarily carried a small but lethal derringer.

Her feelings of anxiety lessened a bit as they drove towards the downtown area. Surely this guy wouldn't head for a crowded area of the city if he was intent on violence. As the fear diminished, the matter of who was keeping an eye on her rose to the forefront of her thoughts. She was cautious by nature and she'd been extra careful about this trip. Not even her family was aware of exactly where she was, they only knew she was traveling. Edwina frowned thoughtfully as she continued to stare out the window. She'd made her hotel and flight reservations online so someone had to have hacked into her computer even though she was up-to-date on her computer security. She'd paid one of her father's top IT experts to design her firewall so whoever it was had to be damn good. Could it be the Feds?

Edwina shook her head a moment later. If it had been the FBI, more than likely she would have seen Special Agent Eppes and that was a meeting for which she wasn't quite ready. As far as she was concerned, the LA FBI was right up there with JAG and her dysfunctional family as the cause of Bradley's death. She didn't know if she could have kept her composure if she'd had to deal with the surprise of seeing Eppes. The limo slowing brought her attention back to the present. They were stopping in front of a nondescript restaurant occupying a storefront in the middle of the block. Signs on the windows boldly declared their tofu burgers to be the best in the world. Edwina couldn't help wrinkling her nose. She was a Texas girl, born and bred. Steak and barbecue were the staples she'd grown up with. She looked towards the driver to find him watching her in the rearview mirror. Raising an eyebrow, she asked in a dry tone, "I assume this is the place?"

He nodded and tipped his head towards the restaurant, "Yes ma'am. You're supposed to go in and tell them Robert sent you."

Edwina swallowed the snide comment hovering at her lips. It wasn't the driver's fault that whoever this was liked pretending they were in some cheesy spy movie. She waited for the driver to open the door and then strode confidently into the restaurant. A twenty-something woman, in a green t-shirt that proclaimed the wearer to be 100% organic, walked over with a wide smile, "Party of one?"

"Robert sent me." Edwina watched the woman's eyes widen slightly and dart to the left. Following her gaze, Edwina saw a dark-haired woman sitting in a booth, sipping a cup of tea. Following the hostess over to the booth, Edwina stood silently while the woman babbled on about their server being with them shortly. The hostess lasted a few more moments before fleeing back to her post. Edwina continued to stand and stare at the dark-haired woman.

Margery Threetrails took another sip of her tea. Edwina McKlellan wasn't quite what she expected. Oh, she'd had photos of the woman but pictures could only tell you so much. Edwina was handsome rather than beautiful - not someone who would turn a man's head - but the type of woman who would age gracefully and gradually. However, she'd also been described as shy and retiring. There didn't seem to be anything shy about this woman. Finally, Margery looked up, "Sit down, Ms. McKlellan, and have some tea. It's quite good."

Edwina slid into the booth, her expression cold, "I don't like being spied upon, Ms. Threetrails. You will call off your surveillance." She smiled slightly at the lightning quick look of surprise, "Yes, I know who you are. I'd be a fool not to recognize the protege of the man who ordered my brother's death."

Margery leaned back in her seat, both hands wrapped around the teacup, "Then you have more knowledge than I. I have no idea what happened to your brother."

Edwina refused to let her temper get the better of her, "So you're denying that Carson Bander had my brother kidnapped?"

"No," Margery eyed Edwina, "I'm saying I have no personal knowledge of what happened to your brother. That died with Mr. Bander." She leaned forward, her manner intent, "I wanted to meet with you, Ms. McKlellan, because we have something in common."

"And that would be?" Edwina raised an eyebrow.

"We both have a death to avenge." Margery sat back again, eyeing the other woman. Saying what she had out loud was a calculated risk but she'd decided it was worth it. Getting McKlellan to work with her would be an advantage, not the least of which would be keeping the woman from interfering in Margery's own plans.

Looking coolly amused, Edwina tipped her head to the side, "You want to join forces? Really? You think I should help you avenge Bander's death - the man directly responsible for Bradley's death? I don't know what's in that tea, but maybe you should stop drinking it."

"We have enemies in common as well," Margery persisted, unperturbed by Edwina's response. She hadn't expected it to be easy. "None of this would have happened if JAG hadn't tried to turn your brother and make him betray his partners. Mr. Bander was forced into his decision because of their actions."

Edwina kept her face expressionless even as her stomach lurched. Here was proof positive that Braddie had committed treason. She'd seen the official reports from both the FBI and JAG. There wasn't much her father couldn't get his hands on and she'd had no problem getting a look at them. Despite that, she'd still been able to hold on to her belief that her brother hadn't crossed that line. After all, it had all been allegations and suppositions. They'd never gotten to the point of interrogating Bradley - because of Bander. Concentrating on keeping her hand from shaking, Edwina finally took a long sip of her tea. Glaring at Margery, she growled, "If it was JAG's fault, why didn't Bander kill MacKenzie when he had her? Instead, he killed my brother." She leaned in, letting more of her anger show, "You're right that JAG and FBI hold some of the blame but most of it lands squarely on Carson Bander - and you. It will be a cold day in hell before I help you with anything."

"And yet you've already made the attempt," Margery countered. "I know about the men you hired to attack the Rabbs' family and home."

Edwina sat up straighter, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? I know it wasn't my people. Ezekiel and his men are dead. That leaves you or your family. I highly doubt your father would get involved after the treason talk died down. He's not that stupid and your grandfather's not that bold." Margery smiled slightly, taking another sip of tea.

"And you can't prove - " Edwina blinked and shook her head. She felt funny. She looked down at the teacup and her eyes widened in horror. The dizziness grew worse and Edwina forced her head up to stare at Margery, "You bitch… " She sagged sideways into the booth.

Margery stood up and leaned over the table, deftly spilling the rest of the tea. The hostess came hurrying over, looking anxious, "Oh dear, what happened? Is she sick? I can call the paramedics for you."

Margery moved over to Edwina's side of the booth, "No, no, that won't be necessary." She glanced around and lowered her voice, "My friend, I'm afraid she drinks a bit. I don't want to make a scene in public - she just got out of rehab and her family has been embarrassed enough."

The hostess nodded, glancing around the restaurant, "I understand. What do you want to do?"

Margery nodded towards the door, "Her driver should be out front. Would you get him, please? We'll take her to her apartment and let her sleep it off." She heaved a sigh, "And then I'll see if I can talk her into going back to rehab. It obviously didn't take the first time."

"Yes, ma'am. You're a good friend." The hostess took one more look at Edwina, shaking her head before heading out the front door. She was back in less than a minute with the driver.

It didn't take any time at all for Margery and the driver to get Edwina up and half-walk, half-drag her to the limo. The hostess helpfully held open doors for them and wished them good luck as they drove away. "Where to?" the driver glanced in the rearview mirror.

"Our place in Chino for now," Margery answered as she checked to make sure McKlellan was out.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Mosi?" Daniel Threetrails frowned slightly. When Margery became the head of Liwanu, she'd asked him to join her as her executive assistant. It hadn't been a hard decision to quit his job in Reno. Margery had been looking out for him since they were little. Now it was his turn to help his big sister. In the cutthroat corporate world, she needed someone she could trust at her side.

"It's necessary," Margery leaned back in her seat. "She wasn't going to be reasonable. I can't have her jeopardizing my efforts."

"But won't her family come searching for her?" Daniel knew Margery had been hoping to convince McKlellan to join them. She hadn't said what she'd planned to do if the woman proved stubborn. He knew she could be audacious when she felt it worth the risk. He wasn't sure how ruthless she'd become over the years.

Margery smiled, "Paranoia is wonderful thing. She made all the reservations herself. According to my sources, all her family knows is that she's traveling. No one will miss her for at least several weeks. We should have plenty of time."

"To do what?" Daniel eyed his sister carefully. He didn't like the thought of murder.

Margery chuckled, "Remember that old movie, 'The Manchurian Candidate'? David Oldtree has promised me that in less than a month's time, Ms. Edwina McKlellan will be our secret weapon - and she won't have any idea."

Daniel snorted, "Mosi, if I remember correctly, the guy in that movie failed. You're taking a helluva chance. Can't we just dump her at her hotel and let it go? There has to be another way."

"This will work," Margery frowned. "I've researched his methods very carefully. He focuses on the pain and pleasure areas of the brain and uses a combination of drugs and stimuli to condition a reward and punishment response. When she responds correctly to a trigger, she'll feel a rush of endorphins as a reward. If she fails, the experience will be much less pleasant. Once that's embedded in her subconscious, she'll essentially be training herself. According to David, the key is multiple triggers. One will be something innocuous like drinking a glass of water to reinforce the endorphin reward. If she can't or won't drink the water, her mind will force her to relive the pain. The beauty of this is the longer it goes on, the more ingrained the correct response becomes. It will become a reflex and when the time finally comes to exact our revenge, she won't even realize what she's doing - only the great feeling afterwards."

Daniel just shook his head, "You're in charge, but I think I'll believe it when I see it."

"That's fine, Danny," Margery smiled. "You will see. The Rabbs and the others won't know what hit them." The pieces of her plan were slowly coming together. The disaster with Ezekiel/Trask had run its course without any significant damage and she'd learned a valuable lesson as well. Eventually and inevitably, the Bear's death would be avenged.

fini

Well, that's it - finally. Thank you to all who stuck it out. A couple of side notes: I lost my fencing coach of nearly thirty years to cancer last month. He was one of a kind and I thought he'd live forever. He was buried in his fencing club warmups, the flower arrangement on his coffin had swords in it and his wife found a funeral home with a mediaeval style room for his send-off. He'd have loved it.

The horsehair in the plaster was courtesy of an old house in my parents' neighborhood. It was stone and mortar, built at the beginning of the 19th century by slaves. The exterior walls were two feet thick and each room had its own fireplace. The one in the main room had a front that was made of open geodes. The house was surrounded by cedar trees nearly as old as it was. The couple who owned it, after their kids were grown and gone, tried to get the Missouri Historical Society to buy it and were refused because the house had been too 'modernized'; i.e., it now had plumbing, bathrooms and electricity. A developer bought the property and knocked the house and trees down. Most of the neighborhood scavenged the stones, myself included. I also found chunks of the plaster. You can see the horsehair and bits of grass in it and, surprisingly, the grass was still green and you could tell the color of the hair that was used.

On one last odd note, my company has added several new customer service reps and one's last name is Dzurick. 


End file.
